


Where would you hide a leaf?

by aragokun



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Ancient Egyptian Deities, Cat AU, Crime Fighting, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Modern AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, english is not my first language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 46,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23236795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aragokun/pseuds/aragokun
Summary: Winter is fast approaching and Hans, a feral cat living in exile from his colony, has settled in a new town in the hopes of finding means of survival. A series of suspicious deaths afflicts the local stray community and an investigation provides him an opportunity for social climbing.Murphy and his twin Seamus have only moved in Green Hill a few moon phases ago. The location is comfortable but the discovery of a corpse on his territory gives him a bad feeling. His curiosity might lead him to truth or doom, and he is not certain he can trust the smug newcomer who keeps interfering in his searches.
Relationships: Hans/Murphy Stabbington
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hhavenh conceived this ship in 2014 with their amazing fic called 'Unhewn'. There are now a few others writing cool stories about the mean boys like mk94 or FreckledSaint; don't hezitate to ckeck their works!  
> Some of my turns of phrase will come out strange since I'm not a native English speaker (and it's my first fic). Don't hesitate to leave a comment about them or tell me if you liked this chapter.

The pigeon landed on the window ledge to rest, tapped its claws around before halting, and turned its head sharply towards the busy street. Hopefully, there would there be a bit of dropped croissant for breakfast. It groomed its light grey feathering with its beak in the soft yellow light of dawn for a little moment, and didn’t notice the intense almond shaped gaze from the dormer above his head.

Cushioned paws descended on the tiles from the side, out of view behind the corner of the wall framing the window. As they came to a halt, a triangular head took a small peek at the ledge but the bird was now concentrated on the sidewalk café activity.

It was completely startled by the sudden appearance of a much larger animal at its side, and barely had the time to deploy its wings before a strong left swing sent it to collide against the glass. It stumbled. A full set of claws tackled it to the stone, and a sharp ache pierced through his neck and life.

The feline didn’t waste much time before tearing in the tender flesh with his sharp fangs, along with a few feathers. The elevation of the roof forbad prey-play, and so did the corroding hunger in his belly. It had been three nights of poor luck and skill for his hunting expeditions. The temptation to turn towards benevolent humans for food or shelter had grown yet stronger. He had seen full bags of those dry buds being poured on the ground in a backyard during a visit in another residential area two days ago.

The cat finished and contracted his muscles in disgust at the thought. He still felt too proud to stoop so low, even if the likelihood of being welcomed back in his feral colony where food was more abundant seemed low. Hans sat up, his stomach unpleasantly constricting, but tried to convince himself it was because he ate too fast. Feathers were sprinkled around and on the concrete down below, and the ledge was quite dirty with red stains.

The feline licked his lips and rubbed his muzzle for some time, before scooting carefully through the rain gutter to the other side of the building. He stopped above a trimmed garden bush and jumped.

Twigs caught unpleasantly in fur but he landed safely on fallen leaves. He shook himself before beginning the trot back to the construction site, promising himself to pick a better shelter should the opportunity present itself. It was a strain to bathe ten times night and day to get rid of dust and smell after all. Considered in positive terms, the site was neutral ground, and there were plenty of hideouts to sleep beyond predator reach; except, now and then, that of the humans working there.

Hans tried to quietly cross the various gardens of the suburbs, hidden behind small copses or shrubs of pink and orange dahlias with their hypnotic ray florets. The smell of the cat who owned this territory was faint, but it would be unwise not to keep his ears open. Pets were generally not as proficient as strays in combat, but they were bigger, better fed.

It would also be easy to get lost if one did not pay attention to his environment. Certainly, this was far from being the most uncomfortable part of town, considering the presence of vegetation, but the all similar, cubic buildings of grey concrete created a considerably monotonous impression.

When the scenery finally changed, the sun had risen above the shadows of the buildings and, to his chagrin, he was constrained to walk in plain view. In vague awe, the young tom moved on beige the cobbled streets that circled a chaotic and colorful assembly of old buildings, with orange half-hipped roofs, or immense spires of chiseled stone whose only humans knew how to master the craft. He smoothly slid against bright blue, red or yellow painted walls beneath the open windows where humans hang and dried their removable pelts. Fortunately, few of the bipeds stood in his way, their step hurried and their attention fixated on their own morning businesses. 

He progressively left the greener, bird plenty neighborhoods and stepped into the half deserted industrial arteries. Overhanging the rows of identical red brick barracks, considerably more austere giant spires blew dense clouds of black smoke; maybe not unlike the volcanos that he had heard about from those strange spotted cats that humans had brought from warmer lands.

Hans’ nervosity lessened somewhat when he realized he had only two territories left to cross before reaching his destination. He ventured in a ventilation duct running under a metal walled factory, ignoring the chaotic noise of fleeing rats, and crawled as quickly as he could to the other side. When he emerged again on concrete floor, he opened his mouth but didn’t detect anybody’s nearby presence.

He followed a line of vast halls with long horizontal windows and watched curiously as humans assembled in dull light mysterious items brought on moving walkways. When he looked at the street ahead again, he finally spotted the railway, step up the pace, only stopping briefly before crossing, mindful of any vibrations in the rail, and finally came to a halt to catch his breath. He blinked to clear the dizziness, impatiently wishing for the sweet release of slumber.

He startled at the sound of a distant but sharp screech from a street on his left.

Hans turned his head and saw the white and tabby owner run towards him, furry in the wince of his jaws. "Intruder!"

At that point, the ginger tom didn’t waste any more time and sprinted forward. He didn’t know the neighborhood well enough to hide in the maze of alleys yet, so he could only hope to outrun the assailant. The construction site was not so far, it was feasible to reach safety despite the fatigue of a night long hunt.

They scampered between the midday sun warmed brick walls for a small period of time, but when the other cat grew too close behind, Hans stopped abruptly in his tracks and side stepped. The tabby didn’t react quickly enough and tripped on the squirrel like, bushy tail that was put in his way.

While he dizzily picked himself up, the ginger took a sprint again and felt the unmistakable, pungent odor of dust grow stronger. Eagerness and hope eased the pain in his lungs, although his nose was almost immediately after overwhelmed again by a strong but different odor.

Before the feline could understand its origin, a third animal, white and strong looking, showed up in his field of vision ahead and on his right, certainly coming from an adjacent alleyway. It was coming full speed, determined to cut him off. 

Hans decided to try and repel the offensive before the other cat could even initiate his tackle leap. He thought that a full weight charge would do the job, but he soon realized he had underestimated his own tiredness. Hard muscle and bone collided with numbing force and Hans was sent tumbling on soiled concrete. He tried to quickly rise upright again but a nasty slash at the top of his head sent him into temporary paralysis.

“Down! So, you dare touch my hunt game?” he heard growling beyond the ringing in his ears. The white tom then put weight on the ginger’s shoulder in an attempt to pin him down and his fangs shone, unsafely close to the other’s throat.

Yet with a lightning fast series of destabilizing scratches to the other’s hindlegs and a roll, Hans succeeded in contorting free with an experience owed automatism. He positioned to face the other, properly hiding his vital organs, but froze in dread when he perceived several other voices echoing menacingly in the dark alleyway.

There were around ten strays standing in all directions. Mostly toms, of seemingly young age. This might explain why they had accepted to collaborate together to ambush the newcomer, Hans thought. Hopefully though, it may also mean they were impressionable, and if there was one thing the red tom knew, it was how to sound older or smarter than he really was.

But first, he made himself small and tried to put together an audible voice, the most repentant act he could manage despite his nervousness. “Please Sir, have mercy on a destitute stranger…It was not my intention to offend you and I am very sorry if I did”. The white tom’s fur was still spiked and his ears flattened in temper when he took a step towards the ginger who found the courage to continue. 

“I just arrived from a remote human settlement. I am not familiar with the local customs. Please, Sir…” The felines who had come to watch altercation whispered to each other in deliberation. The bigger tom leaned up closer, whiskers almost touching Hans’ face and his fangs bared in an intimidating gesture. “Huh? Never heard of any place where thieves could roam wherever they please!”, he spat. 

Hans prudently took a step back and crouched down with his tail curled on the ground in a respectful manner. It was becoming difficult to breath and stand, and the stress and tiredness were preventing him from properly examining his options. As he kept silent, the other grew impatient and raised a paw above the ginger’s head in provocation.

Hans tried hard not to flinch or retreat. But when he shot another glance at the surrounding group, he realized some were already growing disinterested, sat or walked away. Then an idea finally came to his mind.

“I am a house pet! I was abandoned a few days ago. I came here because there wasn’t enough to eat in my town and now... I don’t know what to do! Please, I am sorry!”, he lied spontaneously, before immediately regretting his declaration.


	2. Chapter 2

The night would be chilly, thought the large tom as he wrapped his tail a little bit tighter around his paws. From his perch on the wooden fence, he had good visibility of the park pond and the earthy human paths that surrounded its waters. His blue eye closed and he basked in the last rays of the autumnal light, which reflected in yellow flakes on grey ripples and made the treetop leaves shine against pink clouds and dark blue sky.

Soon, he and his brother would leave the territory for the weekly town meeting, which, the orange colored tom thought cynically, served more as an information support for the weaker strays than a global community catalyst. Still, it was good to learn where humans opened food distribution services whenever prey became rare. Seamus, of course, took this collective event more as an opportunity to test the waters with the local she-cats.

Murphy shook his head and laid his it down on his large tufted paws. With his brother gone hunting all evening, he could finally enjoy some quiet.

Feline ears occasionally twitched at the sound of birds settling on the branches for the night, or the rumble of a few human cars which in recent years had become more abundant in almost all cities. He shifted and tried not to think about the bipeds right now, this could ruin his nap. Given Murphy and Seamus were abnormally big cats, few other strays dared to hunt on any of the territories they had settled on three moon quarters ago. They owed to humans the presence of grain or plant storages, which attracted plenty of vermin. They knew how to escape the attention of keepers whenever meat provisions, of which Murphy didn’t always know the origin, seemed more appetizing.

Nevertheless, he knew humans sometimes killed cats out of a hatred that he could not understand, and remembered how wrong it could have gone for his brother and him shortly after Flynn’s betrayal and their capture. He hoped he wouldn’t have to escape, run across long distances or fight fiercely to capture new territory again.

Wind caressed his scruff and back as he slowly drifted into drowsiness. Noise got less noticeable, but a foreign smell suddenly tickled his nose. The cat lazily looked up towards the northern border of the territory, although the visibility of the terrain was not optimal. He concentrated a bit and he froze in alertness as he recognized the shape of a four legged animal.

He had seen big dogs before, and knew how to elude them in most situations. But the dreadful aspect of the beast and the absence of any human guardian was worrying. Hopefully this was an isolated stray. The rise of a pack in the neighborhood would pose an extreme threat to any cat around.

The monster disappeared as quickly as it appeared and before Murphy could go and check the trail properly, he heard a rustle of leaves behind him. Seamus was back already and seemed oddly jumpy. “Hey. Went to the street behind the fish shops, north from here. Wouldn’t go back there if I were you”. He jumped up next to his brother’s but didn’t sit.

“Caught anything ? –Lizard but wait. There was a dead cat there. Err…Leonie? Like, all messed up, missing limbs”. Murphy scratched his ear with a hind paw, perplexed at what his twin was saying. It was not like his brother to be stirred about such things, both of them had killed other cats in the past. “A car ?”, he asked but Seamus shook his head. “Don’t know”.

Murphy shook his tail in worry but didn’t say anything else before or after they exited the park. The shadows of the tall buildings almost completely obscured the streets as they made their way to the neutral zone around the local indoor market.

They walked in alleyways at the backs of poor condition shops, and saw several other strays ahead of them move between posts and boxes, indistinct shapes sliding in and out of darkness. They finally sat down at a small distance of the back of the main crowd assembled at the foot of three large dump bins where the oldest patriarchs sat on.

At the sight of the three cats, Murphy wondered briefly if his brother would one day decide to join, or overthrow them at a first sign of weakness on their part. It was first moon quarter, but the only decent source of light came from the street lights above their heads. Some felines were grooming, others’ talking quietly in small groups as time went on.

The orange tom noticed an unusual worry showed up on several faces however. Stars shone faintly in the sky's darkness when Anton finally cleared his throat to attract attention to his position at the top of the middle bin.


	3. Chapter 3

“Good evening everyone. Please inform your late friends when they come, we’ll start now. I hope everyone has been doing well during last phase. Before we review our numbers, I suggest we deal with any subjects you feel pressing. What about distributions for instance?” At the blonde tom’s question, a white and tabby she cat named Gabriele immediately approached. “About that! The old man who shows up at the white fountain, you know, on Elke’s territory, he stopped coming. I came back several days in a row and nothing. I’ve also heard the lady living next to the big vegetables shop on Flora’s doesn’t open her door anymore…”

“But that’s only three distributors left ! All those on my territory closed too!” whined an old ex pet tuxedo named Brownie. “I thought there were still two more than that though…Did they close too ?” pressed a black she cat. “Do you think we should move elsewhere? asked a tabby kitten in a shaky voice. I don’t know about that. I heard similar stories in other towns”, answered old grey she cat Marie. “Bastet ! Bastet ! Have you forsaken us ? Is this punishment?”, exclaimed some of her arthritis ridden companions. It was getting pretty noisy in the alley and any nearby human was bound to hear them very soon. 

“Calm down, Anton said above the wind of nervous exclamations in the audience, I suppose those of you who can’t hunt will have to share better between themselves, while those who can will try to rely more on themselves. You’ll be fine”. Several cats exchanged dissatisfied murmurs. “Hm! Don’t see why we should care about some retards who never learnt how to catch a mouse…” huffed Seamus on Murphy’s left. Marie turned around and shot them a dark glance, while the few ex pets present looked at the ground with nervousness. “Speaking of mice, there’s been less too.” softly added a little tortie. A white tom named Moritz shrugged at that comment. “It’s probably just because it’s Fall, there’ll be plenty again soon, you’ll see !” Grabrielle and her circle of friends still seemed hesitant. 

“… Unless this is a piece of a larger, intentional scheme on the human’s part. Just like the declining number of distributions.” said someone standing in the main group. Murphy didn’t recognize the voice, probably a newcomer. But several young toms stood up in recognition and in a curiously foul mood. “Shut it, you dog ! –Yeah, what even are you doing here? Caring about rules all of sudden? –Go back to wherever you came from for all we care!” Other cats, however, had grown quiet in curiosity, and one of the old toms on the bins even decided to ask for more development. The stranger obliged.

“Humans have captured a geographic area far beyond the realm of our respective experiences. They have developed ingenious ways to collaborate together to fashion their environment as they see fit. And, as you have probably noticed, they more often than not grow…hostile to our presence. You may not believe it at first, but in the city I come from, some districts have been completely cleared of strays. Not because humans succeeded in capturing or killing off all cats, but because they deliberately prevented their most generous members from feeding us. That, or they eliminated all prey before we could catch it. –How the hell can they do that? Never seen any human hunt!” objected young white and beige tom Lukas in irritation. But others seemed now very eager to hear more, particularly the she cats. After all, the speaker was a dapper young tom, with seemingly firm muscles and a striking dark red pelt. 

“They don’t need to. It may seem incongruously complex, but they are actually able to sample poisonous items and assimilate them with what is generally edible to mice and birds. This way, prey dies before they have time to reproduce in sufficient numbers and sustain predators like us. –But why?” exclaimed a black kitten in disbelief. “Why would they do that if they don’t even eat mice ? Do they hate us that much?” The older tom made a small pause and then calmly resumed as a flow of questions and remarks subsided. 

“It isn’t, of course. It has nothing to do with emotions. Cats, but more often mice, eat human food. And humans have an instinctive, uncanny obsession with sustenance of various kinds. They came up with increasingly efficient methods to find, store and protect it. They subdued other animal species, or even members of their own, because eliminating competition remained ingrained in their blood even as abundance became their norm.” 

Low murmurs were exchanged as strays tried to make any sense of what the tom had just said and how to respond. Murphy too had a hard time wrapping his brain around the concept, though it kinda made sense he supposed. The ex domestic cats scattered around seemed particularly upset. “Mmh. This doesn’t tell us what to do at all…” grumbled Lukas without looking in the speaker’ direction. Cats turned to the sides and nodded in approval or frustration. 

“Indeed, Anton said loudly as he tried to regain the control of the conversation. If this theory is correct, we need some input regarding the best strategy to pursue from there. -We will collect suggestions from everyone.” intervened Alois, another old colourpoint tom with multiple scars. “But let’s see if there are any other problems you would like to bring up first”. A few of the young strays suddenly held their breath and opened large eyes at each other. The air became dense with the smell of dread until someone opened her mouth. 

“It’s about Jonas…and Anastasiya. They’re…they’re dead”. A cold surprise seized the crowd as a calico named Lisa tried to catch her breath and push out more. “I don’t know how…. And their faces they…they didn’t have any anymore.” The cats looked at each other with worry but Moritz just rolled his eyes. “Seriously ? This shit happens. They probably got hit by a car or something…” Perplexed sounds circulated around, until the smooth meow of the red cat was heard again. “Human misdeeds generally don’t leave a body behind. But if there is a serial murderer, human or not, that leaves victims at a small distance from each other, this means they were not the last in this town.

We should launch an investigation and keep our eyes open. We need to identify the problem and quickly spread its description among ourselves”. The cats quietened pensively for a few seconds and then Lukas hissed. “I you’re so smart, you might as well do this investigation yourself. Cause I’m sure not losing my time with all crap ! -Will you stop being so annoying all the time ?”, groaned tabby Klara, followed by several other she cats. 

“Yeah, even said his mate Lisa, you’ve been complaining all day that he stole your mice or whatever, but I have still not seen a hair bit of those you took from me over the last month !” Sharp disagreement rose here and there as this raised the taboo subject of inequality between the sexes. However, Moritz or Lukas were no longer the dominating voices of the audience. “Investigation sounds cool ! If we find the killer, we will be famous ! Girls will be so impressed !” whispered some young toms among themselves. “I’m not sure. Shouldn’t we rather go together to the green hill and pray to Bastet for help?” grumbled older cats.

“This makes sense, murmured Alois from his perch on the left trash bin. If you all agree, the ex pet should lead the murder investigation. You will all be free to help if you see fit. –No way we let him. This foreigner stole from us !” growled black she cat Flora. “Yes, this is a strong infraction of truce rules, agreed Anton. But since he’s an ex pet, I would recommend being merciful. He may eat at distributions or neutral zones if he needs to. However…” The blonde cat said turning in the direction of the new cat with a cold glare and then towards Lukas. “…We would understand if you seek retribution should he ever take from you ever again”. 

This seemed to appease Lukas to a moderate extent, but Moritz was still fuming. Eventually, the stranger raised his voice for the last time this evening. “I assure you that I am more than grateful for your understanding. I wish to apologize again to any of you who took offense to my actions. I will dedicate myself to my mission to the best of my ability and I thank you for such an honor. Nevertheless, I fear that I might have to ask you a few relevant questions, within boundaries you feel comfortable with of course. I hope that we will eventually come to better terms.” 

Murphy doubted the sincerity of this reverent statement. The she cats and the youngest toms seemed bewitched however, although not only because of the arguments. “Very well, said Alois, if none of you would like to speak about any other issue, let’s hear about your opinions regarding food shortages. The elders recommend to those needing distributions to try to share more evenly, and to pairs who can hunt to do the same with prey. –Hey, I have something to say!” exclaimed tabby Pierre, who then inhaled sharply before speaking again. 

“Dimitri stole my girlfriend! I saw it! And on my territory on top of that ! This is pretty much illegal too!” The cat in question rolled his eyes. “You’re the one to talk. And it was Julie’s territory, not yours.” Many sneered at that and happily began to slander and share community rumors about unfaithfulness or unmanliness. “Will you just shut up about your horny crap?” hissed old grey Marie. “Just settle this with face to face combat and stop being a pain everyone’s ass ! Damn dogs…”

The few kittens present snickered at the vulgarity while Pierre lowly grumbled. The rest of the evening talks were about numbers review. No true solution to food shortages was found except remain vigilant to new distribution openings, but this wasn’t Murphy and Seamus’ problem. They knew how to hunt and where or how to steal from humans. Meanwhile, Seamus was growing bored, but also annoyed by the fact that the investigator had captured the she cats’ attention this evening. 

The dark ginger looked very confident for an ex pet, Murphy thought when looking at the slender silhouette from afar. Some of the cats around him were already standing up, eager to tell what they had seen, heard, or just to approach or talk to him. The big tom was close to certain that his twin would never want to be involved in any of this as they made their way in the alley back home. Murphy didn’t want to gossip with anyone, and especially not with the stranger, either. He had had his fair share of drama because of Flynn in the past. Yet, deep down, it didn’t stand right with him to not know what happened to the three, no…four butchered neighborhood cats, so he preferred not to say anything against the whole thing as long as no one approached his hunt game.


	4. Chapter 4

He awoke in a jolt at the sound of dog bark from a dreamless sleep.

He dared not to move out from his hideout behind a protection fabric, in the corner of a scaffold. He waited. But only the usual distant voices of human workers followed. When the panic induced paralysis subsided, he slowly rose up and walked to a patch of pale morning light descending from a hole in the ceiling of the empty room. He stretched, gripped at cement and pulled on his forelegs to shake the soreness caused by his uncomfortable bedding. He then got to grip with the most important task of his routine and one he would probably repeat at least five times today. 

His present living conditions had grown more difficult than he had ever known as a kitten, but to him this was no excuse to stop maintaining his appearance. He would never let his coat appear anything but fine in texture and vibrant in color, no matter how often scoffed at his vanity would be. By the time he was finished grooming, the sun had considerably moved in the sky. He judged it would be reasonable to start the investigation.

When he slackened his jaw and smelled the air of the construction site, he identified the presence of a dozen of young strays at the fringe of the neutral zone. Some of them had approached him yesterday to give testimony or offer assistance and now impatiently expected further instructions. His little sophistry at the gathering had lured in more support than he himself had initially hoped, given his imprudence from the last few days. Nevertheless, one thing considerably irritated him. 

He had always despised domestic cats, their cowardly and smarmy lifestyle, just like his colony and his family did before him, as was tradition. But now he would have to personify the relevant role for a while. 

He sighed. With time he would come with a more precise idea of what to do with the fruits of manipulation. However, for now, it would be profitable to discover the assassin. Or find a convenient scapegoat, should research quickly prove inconclusive. There were many possibilities and he was in no rush. 

As he made his way on the gateways and stairs, he tried not to let the injuries Moritz had given him yesterday appear in his expression or gait. To his relief, when the young cats finally saw him jump from the lowest platform and cross the street towards them, they didn’t seem less than impressed.

“Good day, Sir!”, they exclaimed. We’re glad to see you! We wanted to know how you think we should organize the patrols we talked about. You see, we wanted to create a group for each victim, and then check the neighboring streets for any clues. But it turns out the area overlaps a lot of territories, and some cats, you know, won’t let us come in…” Hans nodded sympathetically. 

“This isn’t a bad suggestion at all. But given the spatial dispersion of the victims we are still uncertain as to where the murderer might strike next. I recommend that we first map an overview of the community’s territory and establish a precise route for each group, to cover a maximum of area. Of course, as you mentioned, this means we might encounter other cats, and we will have to travel longer distances”. The younger cats’ expression darkened but they remained silent and attentive so he continued. 

“But those cats might actually be of help to us. In their opinion, no one is in better position to monitor their territories than they are. Therefore, should they decide not to let us cross, we will remain standing on the frontier and directly ask if they saw anything unusual since our last visit. I know it might sound futile, but if each group is of sufficient size, they might feel pressured to grant information”. 

The dozen of young cats’ mood alleviated again and they began to argue with each other about group size and composition. Others enthusiastically began to explain what they knew about the territories’ layout, or the personality of locals. Hans was about to ask where exactly each of the victims was found when a tabby named Pierre raised his voice, hesitant. 

“There’s something else we wanted to tell you about…I heard Marie found another dead cat this early morning. His name is…was Georg…” The others held their breath and looked at him with alertness. “I remember you said you wanted to know more about injuries yesterday. So I asked her to wait and show you...” Hans would have preferred to supervise the first patrols but it was best to gather clues from a fresh body. The humans would soon get rid of it if they waited more in addition. He asked Pierre to lead the way, and they crossed the railway towards a human shopping area not far from the gathering alleys. 

It was a shame that the stroll purpose was so sinister. Warm sun rays shone on the old cobbled streets in a way that almost made forget any danger they might hold. Birds flew away to the roofs’ tops at the cats’ approach and humans went in and out of the shops and refectories, eating or carrying food and other items. Hans tried to ignore the itch of a day old hunger and kept an eye on the striped tail a few steps before him. His stomach twisted and he stifled the need to gag when a putrid stench permeated his sensitive nostrils. 

Old Marie was waiting for them at the corner of the street, her short and dark grey fur slightly concealed by a badly maintained shrub. She rose and stood on the sidewalk edge, her bright orange eyes looking with fixedly in a specific direction. On the other side, barely visible next to a crammed trash can, laid another, immobile feline. 

Mindful of passing cars, Hans walked to the black and white body, while Pierre and Marie cautiously approached behind him. The younger tom was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide in fear. The she cat seemed absorbed in gloomy thoughts. The smell of death and the sight of dirtied fur were awful but Hans got as close as he could to get a better sight of the wounds. 

The victim’s legs were tweaked at odd angles and the tail was missing, he noticed immediately. But the most striking or horrifying characteristic was certainly the absence of eyes in their sockets, and the two shredded ears. Hans tried not to look away and breathed in and out slowly. 

As the first impression faded away to be replaced by cold, analytical pondering, something else stroke him as odd, namely the absence of a deep bite mark at the side of the neck. This was a common method for a cat to murder another, whether in combat or ambush. This was also how Hans himself had intended to get rid of the Queen of Arendelle one moon ago. 

He shook himself. Now was not the time to think about that, so he focused again on the length of the corpse’s body. Through the semi long fur, he distinguished large bruises on the shoulders and back. He walked around to change his angle of observation and took a closer look at the shape of the spine and neck curvature. Could the tom have died from fracture instead of blood loss? If that was the case, this meant he either fell from an elevated point before being mutilated by scavengers, or was grabbed by an animal much stronger than himself and thrown roughly against a hard surface.

“Madam, he asked softly, turning his head towards Marie. Was the body handled in any way after you found him?” She shook her head but said nothing. In the dark slit at the middle of her irises, he could see clearly that she was suspicious of this newcomer and his strange scheming, not to mention his popularity with the local youth. He pondered a bit and heard her claws clic clac impatiently. 

“I don’t want to pry needlessly but…how close were you with…uhm…late Mr Georg? Did you two see each other often?” he insisted. “Not really”, she grumbled and Hans managed a hesitant smile. “But you found him dead on your territory this morning. Could he have invited himself in if you didn’t know one other?” She gave him an even darker look, if that was possible, and then hissed. 

“Two phases ago, he told me he needed to see a food distributor in my district, because apparently the ones on his territory closed or whatnot bullshit excuse. I felt sorry for him so I let him and he didn’t even bother warn when he’d come afterwards. Don’t believe he has been the only self-entitled tom to behave so terribly!” At that she looked at Pierre who suddenly became very interested in something on the ground. 

Hans’ nervous smile grew larger. He would have to be cautious around her in the future if he wanted to climb the social ladder of the community, he thought. “One last question, Madam. Did you see any stray dogs on your territory during the last few days ?” She shook her head again and the ginger tom took a last glance at the body, then sat and turned towards Pierre who idly pawed at a leaf. 

“We are done, I believe. Would you be so kind when we get back as to spread the news among your friends and advise them to ask around if anyone has seen one or several stray dogs in the neighborhood?” Pierre nodded hesitantly and stood up, eager to get back to the construction site. Hans took some time to politely thank the old she cat for her cooperation and followed the tabby. 

He felt her gaze linger on their retreating backs until they completely left the territory. For a long time, Hans could not shake away the thought that he was missing something important.

Light grey smoky clouds partially obscured the blue midday sky and wind slightly tousled his scruff. At half way, they were welcomed by the meows of the other volunteer toms, eager to finalize patrol preparations. Pierre ran happily towards them while Hans lingered, caught in his own thoughts. 

He had only ever seen dog wounds twice in his life. His most vivid memory was that of his uncle Klaus’ death, during one of Mother’s visits along with her youngest litter. His mate was the one who had found him, mauled to death in a garden. He remembered missing pieces of flesh, and large, messy wounds. 

The tom's head was spinning. He really needed to eat something soon. But his stomach hurt at only the thought.


	5. Chapter 5

“You think I care? You’re not getting anything from me ! Get the hell out of here before I rip your ears off !”

Great. Seamus would be in a bad mood like an elderly cat all day.

The four strays sputtered, quite intimidated, but tried again to ask the brothers if they had found any new corpse. They were probably sent by the domestic cat from the gathering of two days ago. Murphy hadn’t seen anything suspicious since then, but he still felt kinda nervous. 

After some time, his brother succeeded in driving the youth out of the park, but not without a long although pointless resistance on their part. The investigator really had gotten in their heads. When they finally disappeared at the corner of a street, Seamus stormed off to his own turf in the old town, leaving his brother to his own devices. 

As the orange tom jumped on the ledge of a small decorated fountain to take a drink, he still felt a bit bad for the young cats but he couldn’t exclude the possibility that they were trying to collectively takeover territory. 

Now seemed like a good time to look for a bird or two. He zig zagged between brown elder trees and flowerbeds, and reached one of the little paths where humans strolled or sat on benches. He found what he was looking for and soon after carried the feathered carcass back to the pond, he decided it might be better to keep it for later. He quickly buried it at the foot of the wall and went back to the tracks, checking the area for any trespassers. 

However, the more he walked, the more it seemed like he couldn’t keep his mind off what Seamus had told him two days ago.

Impulsively, Murphy strolled to the other side of the park and went through the grid. He crossed several streets and soon recognized the shops where small groups of humans cut or carried how heavenly smelling fish.

In a little side alley, there only was a faint smell of blood. Two days had passed, how could he have expected Leonie’s body to be still there ? What was the poor cat doing here anyway ? If whatever that killed her didn’t, maybe Seamus or Murphy might have. For territory infraction. 

He sighed in frustration. This was useless. 

He reached the boulevard again and looked down at the main car circulation corridor from the elevated sidewalk. He was about to head back when his nose was hit by the familiar whif of dog. 

He twisted his head from side to side, but there was no canine in his immediate surroundings. It was likely a trail, and it seemed to lead beyond Murphy’s turf, to the other side of the street. This area was particularly attractive for the abundance of rats and street food shops. And it belonged to none other than Alois, one of the community’s patriarchs. He doubted the bloke could prevent Murphy from paying him a visit though. And he didn’t even refer to unequal brute strength. Alois was too charitable for a tom of his status. 

For the last two phases, he had let young strays and ex domestic cats come in to see a new distributor. Although, unfortunately for them, the latter seemed to have stopped his charity activities as quickly as he or she had started. Maybe this strange investigator was onto something about humans getting organized to get rid of strays. 

After a few seconds of hesitation, the fawn tom prudently ran across the street. 

The lead went on for a while in narrow lanes serpenting between decrepit flat blocks. Even at this time of day, quite a few humans could be found here. Loudly, they unloaded crates of goods from trucks or prepared their stands. The streets were progressively getting dark however, as the sky got masked by grey clouds. Murphy grew worried that it might rain. 

As he approached an apparently ordinary large building whose apartments were accessible from a common yard, the lead became more precise and his concerns were confirmed. A pack had developed in the neighborhood and, although he could only smell three to five dogs, he could not be certain that they were not more. 

He treaded cautiously in the yard, his ears shifted incessantly. He was greeted by a large square of concrete floor with patches of valiant weed still springing up and an acrid smell of vomit. He wrinkled his nose and quickly walked to the metallic stairs. Maybe he would have a better sight of the surroundings from the passageways.

When he reached the last floor, he was about to go and look around for a ladder or any kind of roof access when a suspicious movement on the opposing corridor made him turn around. 

The first thing he noticed through the security barrier was a bright patch of color. Large pointed ears, a dark red pelt, and a plume like tail…

Was his mind playing tricks on him? Foxes didn’t live in human suburbs. He had only ever seen some at forest fringes. Unfortunately, the creature was difficult to identify precisely, covered by the storey cap’s shadow. 

But what Murphy could identify thanks to full sun exposure was how still the other animal at the feet of the first was. 

He walked as quietly as he could on the gateway in hope to get a better view of the scene. The fox was oddly immobile and seemed fascinated by the corpse’s sight, yet didn’t make a move to eat it or move it elsewhere. 

Murphy turned in the second corridor, one more corner to reach. The air was still and not a noise could be heard. He tried not to rush but the more he approached the more puzzled he became. He still didn’t smell the faintest flagrance of fox. The odor of a decaying corpse, however, was indubitable, along with that of something else. It seemed familiar yet he couldn’t put his whiskers on what it was. 

Suddenly, a door opened before Murphy’s nose, almost hitting his face. 

He quickly retreated in the corridor, beyond reach of the approaching human. The latter fortunately didn’t stay interested in him for long, walked by and headed downstairs. Murphy breathed in and out and quickly walked to the last corner of the balcony. 

As he suspected, the critter was already gone in a fright. But the orange tom’s focus was more intensely drawn to who exactly was lying on the concrete floor. He slowly drew near and, in a shock, recognized the colourpoint fur of Alois. A killing bite, a death blow to the back of the neck, had undoubtedly brought about his death. But curiously, besides a few superficial scratches, the rest of his body was intact. 

Was he ambushed and caught by surprise? Could this injury have the same origin as those of the cats who were reported dead two days ago? Was this all the fox’s doing? While his mind raced in several directions, he didn’t immediately mind a raucous repetitive sound from one of the adjacent streets. When he realized what it was, he curtly straightened and looked around.

Before long, he noticed that a portion of the facade was missing a roof edge. He quickly climbed the wall and reached the exposed terrace at the very top of the building.

Wind hit his fur and he noticed that the smell of incoming rain had gotten even more pronounced. 

Turning to the left, he noticed a bulky vent structure that could offer some decent protection for a small animal. Getting closer, although it was faint, he noticed Alois’ smell. With no clue to explain this, he angled his ears at the sound he was interested in in the first place and approached the edge of the building. 

His eye searched the street down below and quickly spotted a dog, enormous, that looked similar to the one had seen two days earlier, running around and barking furiously. Although agitated, it didn’t seem like it wanted to leave the street any time soon, which led Murphy to believe the object of their aggressively was not far. 

With further observation, he noticed a row of small trees on the sidewalk. And on the branches of one of them, half hidden, was a small furred animal. Looking yet better, there was another, a bit higher in the foliage, and then another. Given their sizes, they probably were cats, and they didn’t seem in a good posture right now.

Murphy considered leaving them be. This was not his problem. A cat worthy of its name could go it alone. And they could also just wait for the dog to grow bored.

He was about to go back the way he came from, when he heard one of the felines scream at the dog. The voice was equally filled with menace and fear, but Murphy recognized it as that of one of the four young cats who had paid a visit to his brother and him earlier. What were they doing here now? Was it about Alois? 

After a small deliberation, and reaching the conclusion that the best way to prevent other toms to trespass in his turf again was to show what he could do against foes than they were, the ginger cat threw himself from the top of the building. 

The pain in his legs after jumping from so high paralyzed him a moment but thankfully the canine hadn’t yet realized his presence. It still furiously circled the plants. Murphy waited for it to turn his back on him and charged. 

When at proper distance, he leaped onto its back and bit the nape to anchor himself. Then, as deeply as he could, he slashed into the soft skin of the face. 

The beast howled in agony and began to violently jump up and down to dislodge its assailant. 

He tried to cling on for as long as possible despite the hurt in his jaw, and focus on giving major damage to the nose. He barely heard one of the perched cats yell something. 

He didn’t know exactly after how long but, with a violent shake, the dog succeeded in getting him off and throwing him several steps behind. With a last second twist of his body, Murphy landed on his paws and breathed in and out to shake off the dizziness, while the canine lurched in his direction with an impaired sense of smell. 

The tom wondered if he had bought the youth enough time but didn’t bother to take the risk to check. He ran off in the opposite direction as fast as he could until he heard barks get fainter and fainter. 

After a while, he recognized the nicer looking flat blocks and human shops that indicated that he was almost out of Alois’ territory. He slowed down to a stroll and breathed the air deeply, ignoring the bipeds which tried to approach him. He decided against going back the popular area for today. 

He huffed, frustrated by not having found the dogs’ hideout yet. The only good thing about what happened was that the young cats were now probably intimidated and would not come back to bother his twin. 

He went on to cross Klara’s small territory and knew he would be back in the park for nap time. Hopefully, Seamus would not show up to ask him how his morning went.


	6. Chapter 6

The tom impatiently paced back and forth at the back of the parking lot where Jean and Pierre were supposed to meet with him, along with the cat who owned the territory where Anastasiya, the second victim, was found dead last moon phase. There would be no reeking cadaver left to examine thankfully, only witnesses to interrogate. This thought failed to completely comfort the ginger. 

With yet another cat found dead, and yesterday patrol’s fiasco with the dog, Hans knew he would better quickly find solid evidence to buy his followers’ patience. He didn’t know exactly how the community would react if he came empty handed at the next gathering. 

Or found out he had stayed hidden in a building like a vile coward while young cats found themselves in pressing danger. 

He doubted that they would really harm him, but he was not in shape to move across great distances again, and he was too proud to accept being confined to neutral zones with the sluggish local ex pets who couldn’t even climb a tree properly. 

He sighed. Had they not been rescued by this Murphy he was told about, the youth would have had to stay all night at the top of a tree. They could have been angered to the point of droping everything. He let his eyes wander to the entrance of the parking and pondered. Such an altruistic cat would probably be very helpful; he would have to remember to ask where to find him to formally express his gratitude.

At the corner of his eyes he suddenly detected a movement, and was about to hide under the closest car when he realized it was just a light grey cat calmly walking in his direction. He was not sure to have seen him at the gathering. 

Hans sat down, winded his squirrel tail around his paws and waited silently until the other was a few steps from him, close enough to be heard. “You’re Hans, is that right ?”, the stranger asked with a hoarse voice. This close, the ginger realized this was the third patriarch he had seen at the top of the bins three days ago. His strong shoulders and his calm, fearless expression indicated that he had probably been sturdy some time ago. But he now moved stiffly and his fur was dull and harsh on his thin body. 

“I am. How can I help you Sir ?”, Hans responded politely, inclining his head. “It is nice to meet you. My name is Josef. May I ?” With a slight movement of his ear, the oldest cat indicated a dry patch of ground. It had rained during the night and cats’ dislike for humidity only grew with age. Hans moved over so they both could crouch under a bench. Grey clouds lazily travelled above the city buildings and a soft wind carried the smell of fallen leaves and soil. A small moment passed.

“I have heard so much about you”, suddenly said Josef without looking at the other next to him. Hans widened his eyes a bit. What exactly, he wondered. When asked, he had remained purposefully vague about his ex domestic cat backstory, to remain coherent in the eyes of the most distrustful cats. He waited for the other to continue. 

“Our community has been hassled with so many problems lately. I feared that many, especially the young ones, wouldn’t worry enough to live another spring”. Hans nodded, expression appropriately compassionate. “But they seem to look up to you so much. It’s a relief to be able to count on someone as resourceful as you. How is the ah…investigation going ?” Hans tried to choose his words carefully. 

“All is well. Progress is slow of course but each day we uncover new evidence which puts us on the path of truth. –Ah. But shall not Her love turn cats towards the road of light and truth ?” Hans blinked. “Pardon ?” The grey cat turned his head slightly, still not looking at the ginger directly. 

“All the cats are provided for ?” Hans remembered Jean’s fearful expression when the dog circled the tree yesterday. He smiled nervously. “Of course. Spirits seem high. –Is there anything that you need from me ? Anything that the Church of Bastet can do for you ?”

Hans smiled wider and, finally, cold eyes met cold eyes and the parking lot's atmosphere grew uncomfortably tense. “I do not believe so, no thank you”. Josef hummed softly at that. 

“You think this now. But a pet like you doesn’t always know how difficult life can be in the open street”. Hans didn’t comment on that. “I understand you’ve asked…the cats to gather around…and hear about what happened to my daughter, Anastasiya, and the others. –Is that right? –That’s right. 

I got all fixed for the next gathering to be at the green hill. I will say a prayer. Before you begin, you should introduce me. You’ll see me walk up”. Hans tried not to laugh or let his smile drop in irritation. “When you will walk up ? – Yes, and then you could say : ‘the proud father of Green Town…who tended to his hundred sons’ strength. –Of course. -It’s a simple prayer, Hänsel, but an important. It’s just a few words, it won’t take long”. 

Distant laughter rang in a nearby street, announcing the youth’s arrival. Hans’ muscles slightly relaxed as he and the patriarch stood out from under the bench. 

“Well, thank you for your visit. And, my condolences. The tone sounded too factitious for his own liking but Hans hoped the old fool would not notice. 

As he watched Josef slowly disappear behind the metal bulk of the cars, he dug his claws in dirt.


	7. Chapter 7

The docks were very busy despite dawn light barely softening the colors of the towers which guarded the river mouth. Humans walked around in the hangars and moved cargo in and out the ships’ bellies. Only a few, small vessels were still moved out of the bay by the wind, their big white leaves simmering or tight at sailor command. Most of them were iron giants, which could be propelled to split the waves through a mysterious internal mechanism. Murphy had never been on a ship himself but he had met cats who had. Months spent on a restless body of water, lack of personal privacy, serving the human crew through rat hunting and hoping the vessel would not be trapped offshore for too long (the bipeds were not picky when they were hungry). He shuddered and hoped to never be found in such a situation. 

After examining the long journey departure area, trying not to find himself in humans' or carts’ way, he toured the fish crates area at the foot of bright red and yellow three storey buildings, and ventured on the small wooden pontoons whose posts were delicately skimed by calm sea sprays. 

A long long time ago, humans flew across an immense body of water and came onto this cold new land, Murphy remembered Granny say when any member of his litter was still too young to catch a sparrow itself. 

They came from a hot, desert land where the only source of life was a huge silt rich river where fish and monstrous lizards abounded. This river trailed between colossal mountains with sharp angles sculpted by biped hand. Some were given a chimaera shape, a lion body and a human face. Alongside the travelers, were unloaded our ancestors; striped, strong felines which had survived the journey. They had not only be brought because of their ability to get rid of vermin, but also for cats were the living embodiment of Bastet, daughter of sun god Ra, wife of Ptah and mother of lion god Miysis. Humans had long forgotten that the benevolent goddess protected humans and cats alike against contagious diseases and evil spirits, but cats hadn’t, and it was still their mission to carry her cult on and protect the earth. 

Murphy didn’t know what happened to Granny. Maybe she thought she could have outrun death when she felt the end draw near. He looked at the iron colored horizon and wondered impatiently how long he had been there. 

He had expected to quickly run into Lukas around here. It’s on this territory that the first body was found, if he remembered the rumors that circulated during the last gathering correctly. He knew the patrol blokes would be too scared to talk to the beige tom, as he was one of the city’s dominant toms, and also strongly hostile to the investigation and its leader. But Murphy knew he was actually averse to interaction with any cat, except maybe with his she cat mate (or mates). He still suspected the dogs to be responsible but he could not ignore the fact that all the victims were some of the weaker cats of the community and, with that in mind, Lukas was a serious suspect. “Hello?” 

He turned around as calmly as he could despite his surprise. Because of the salt clogged wind, he had not felt the approach of the calico from the dock behind him. Lisa, Lukas’ official mate, stood at prudent distance. Did she come on his behalf? He doubted that he asked her to. She trampled with embarrassment and nervosity but Murphy just stayed seated and waited for her to speak up. 

“You’re Murphy, right?” He didn’t contradict her. “If Lukas finds you here…”, she stammered and looked at a bird in the water. “I know, he said. Just came to ask him some questions about Jonas”. 

She opened big slit light green irises at that. He suddenly remembered that she was the one who had found the first victim. “Wait. Does that…does that mean you’re working on the investigation too?”, she said with a tone that Murphy found strangely glad for the circumstances. “Not really”. It was a partial lie, he was an investigator in practice, but he preferred to go it alone. Eventually, he would tell Seamus about his discoveries and they would then use the knowledge to their advantage, but for now he preferred to keep everything to himself. 

Lisa’s tail stooped, puzzlement in her face. “Well, you should!", she exclaimed confidently, her initial timidity wearing off quickly. "Hans has been looking for you all day. He would like to thank you for rescuing Jean, Pierre and the others. He told me he has been very impressed and really would like you to work with him. You see, he explained everything he did for the last few days to me. He’s so so clever! He has almost solved the mystery, you know! But you could help to speed things up!”

Murphy frowned. “Who?” She gasped and continued, her eyes sparkled in a way that didn’t owe everything to the morning light. “Well the lead investigator of course! Didn’t you see him at the gathering when he explained everything about the humans poisoning our hunt game?” 

He was about to retort that this was the last cat he needed to meet when he heard a furious collision of claws against the paving get louder and louder. He got past Lisa to stand directly in front a livid white and beige tom. 

“Hey! What are you doing with my mate? Leave right now before I tear off your whiskers!” His tone was as harsh as Lukas wanted it to be, but the body language with the ruffled back and contracted muscles betrayed nervousness. Even he didn’t know if he would come out victorious from a confrontation. 

“What happened to Jonas?”, asked Murphy, straight to the point. Lukas blinked, confusion on his face, but quickly growled again. “Well…he’s dead duh! Thank you for coming and bye! -Do you know what happened to him?” Lukas huffed some more. 

“What’s with the questions? First you come on my territory, then you dare try touch my girl but, oh, all you want to know is how a useless old man got squashed? Well, guess what, I don’t buy any of it!” Murphy’s tail twitched in irritation but he took care not to show any change in his expression. 

He shot a glance behind him. Lisa’s ears were all low and her expression was pitiful. He was almost sorry for what he was about to say but it was not his job to protect her from bad company. 

“A cat died on my territory too. The new pet cat and his followers trespassed on my territory to take a look at it”, he lied and looked at Lisa, his eye a steely blue. “He came here too right? That’s when you told him how you found the body ? If he’s about to solve the case as you said, then there’s little time to beat him to the punch”. 

He stared at Lukas again. “So tell me what you know”. But Lukas mind had promptly gone elsewhere. 

“What?!”, he yelled with absolute fury and Lisa lifted her head when she realized she was the one he spoke to. "N…no…It’s not what it looks like!”, she stuttered. Her tail was tucked between her hind legs and her eyes were wide in horror, pleading.


	8. Chapter 8

Nanny laid down comfortably in the dune tall grass, but her eyes were still vigilant. Mother would not be back before night and it was her duty to ensure none of her last litter princes drowned in the murky waters of the coastal Southern Marshes. But of course, the runt didn’t care about her responsibilities. He was more preoccupied with climbing on a huge fallen trunk to impress his brothers. 

But what a difficult task for such little paws. He clawed slowly, painstakingly at the wood. But for each step he took, he slid down a bit. He whined in frustration, hang midway for a moment, before falling in a thud on the ground leaves. He wriggled his feet in the air and rolled on his belly. As he stood shakily, his attention was immediately caught up by colorful movement in the periphery of his vision. 

There, at only a moderate distance, a butterfly flitted about the puddles. With its yellow and red wings, it looked so pretty, so funny, so magical. 

Hans had to destroy it. 

He tried to remember what his two years older brother Otto had showed him about stalking and flattened in a crouching position. He put his paws one in front of the other to remain silent as he walked, whiskers extended and pupils wide and dark in excitement and concentration. 

Alas, as he was about to make his pounce, Jürgen emerged from a bush nearby and pressed his paw down on the insect. Immediately after, Klaus’ small voice rose in frustration. "Not fair, I found it first !" The three kittens then scurried to clumsily hit the new toy around as much as they could. Wing scales were slowly scattered around in a gruesome manner, dooming the poor butterfly to a slow painful death. The kids didn’t even finish it off before getting bored, and started wrestling with each other. 

Hans dodged Klaus and ran to the other side of the clearing where Ludwig was busy chewing on some fluffy hare's-tail flowers. Unfortunately for the red kitten, the confrontation like any other today would end poorly. His siblings were bigger and stronger, and the small cats didn’t know about bite inhibition yet. Therefore teeth grips and belly rakes could prove painful, even if this was all only a game. 

Still, running back and forth or playing chase in the tall rush was exhilarating and Hans could never feel down for too long. He remained confident with the hope that he would one day become as strong as Otto. Or even as strong as Father.

When sun set, the five little furry balls started to grow hungry and squeaked demandingly at Nanny about it. As she tried to keep them patient, Mother’s smell finally became distinguishable from the pine forest direction. Hans stood and followed his brothers excitedly to meet her. But as her tortie fur, along with brother Paul’s red one, became visible in the briar, a bad feeling rose unexpectedly in the runt’s stomach. 

His brothers happily jumped around and brushed against Mother as she gently kissed their noses and licked their fuzzy heads. She didn’t say anything, and seemed a bit tired. Hans tucked himself against her foreleg. 

"Mother, where is Otto ?" he asked with a tiny voice. She lapped at Jürgen’s back. "He’s not needed here anymore", she answered in an even tone. Her son was still young, but he knew that she was referring to Father’s opinion. "He’s old enough to have his own territory now", she added. 

"But…but where did he go ?", he insisted. His throat was growing tight as he tried not to cry. Her amber eyes looked down uncertainly at green ones for a small moment, before staring vacantly into space. 

Her son cried and implored her to bring Otto back for a while, to no avail. Nanny looked at the interaction with compassion. Hopefully, the five princes would still have appetite after their bath. Bastet willing, if Hans or any of his litter mates one day took the initiate to travel long distances, or if one of King Friedrich’s sons ousted his father from power, the brothers would be able to reunite. But for now, it was in the best interest of the youngest kitten to steel himself and keep hiw own interests in mind. 

If he didn’t grow strong enough, he would not be able to win his own turf or produce an offspring when the time would come. Sentimentaly or weakness was not a good look on a tom.

That’s what Hans reminded himself when he realized he had only three days left before the investigation report deadline. 

Brownie was a friendly gent. He had been very open to their questions and supportive of the investigation. He had told with sadness how good friends he and Anastasiya have been. The ex pet was the last one to have seen her, two days before the last gathering. They were both enjoying a good meal then. Hans was not sure if this was enough to accuse the tuxedo cat. He was not present at the time of the murder and had seldom encountered serious threats since he lived on this turf. 

If not useful, the little investigation tour in the city center had had at least the merit to be entertaining. Flowers or more abstract patterns were carved into the variegated stone buildings, and windows were given a cozy appearance by some warm wooden shutters. It was also easing for all the cats of the patrol to avoid walking on the crowded streets and instead find a route across the red sun warmed tiles of the roofs. 

To end the day on a positive note, Pierre had invited everyone to dinner in the backyard of an old woman, in one of the last districts where distributions were still organized. No less than two had closed last week. Therefore, not surprisingly, they were not the only strays present and it had taken a bit of hustling to get a small share of kibbles that were given to them in a few big plates. It was the first time that Hans stooped to eat these and he had a hard time pretending that, like an ex domestic cat, he was used to them. 

While he chewed on the bland substance, he heard Jean and Pierre merrily chat with some young friends or cousins about an upcoming game of chase on a neutral piece of lawn. The ginger sat down and groomed his nose and legs almost frantically, then fixed his ruff for longer than necessary. According to Brownie’s vague description, Anastasiya had died of blood loss after having lost her limbs. Hans and a few other investigation members had asked around if there were any dangerous stray dogs living in the neighborhood, but he was still puzzled at how clean the wounds were. 

He gazed at the colorful clouds of dusk gloomily. If the injuries had a random, human origin, as he also suspected, this would not make any good impression at the gathering. The bipeds were an already too general and potent threat to represent a proper scapegoat in these challenging circumstances. At the same time, he could not think of a cat to pin the fault on right now. It had worked well enough with Queen Elsa, but her surnatural abilities had already raised mob distrust on their own. 

It was not until they had come back to the construction site, and that the veiled moon had appeared behind the ominous skyscrapers, that he realized that the evening could get yet worse. Dimitri, a broad shouldered tabby tom, completely distraught, barged in to report the disappearance of his sister, Klara. She had just moved on old Alois’ turf.


	9. Chapter 9

He wondered how he hadn’t thought of this earlier. It had taken him almost a night to both cross the north eastern popular area again as well as find a few detours to avoid crossing those immense streets where rows and rows of cars travelled at inconceivable speed. But at sunrise, finally, he reached the first fields and tree groves beyond a wide bridge. 

It was a delight to trot in fresh dew covered grass, see the soft rays of dawn filter through wide canopees, and catch a declicious squirrel. As he watched the half-timbered barns he was reminded of the time his brother, Flynn and him roamed the countrysides and the forests, or stole from farmers in the villages. 

At the end of a particularly muddy track with deep car imprints, Murphy could not let the filth that matted his fur and his tiredness discourage him, for he knew he had finally found the right landfill. He carefully chose his point of entry, with the wind blowing on his face and carrying his scent out.

Hopefully, garbage odor would help. Dead botanical material, rotten meat and bones, car and sea shells, oddly shaped rocks and sherds, spilled barrels of toxic liquids, a considerable number of broken boat pieces and other artifacts associated with past human occupation obstructed his progression. The smell, both recent and frequent, of passing dog was almost stuffy now, and he tried to always remain at close distance of tight enclosed spaces. 

It was practically suicidal, he thought nervously. Dogs were bigger, worked collectively. If he was caught, he would be torn to shreds in good time. But, like whenever he entered a new human storage room, he could not prevent his inquisitiveness or his taste for challenging infiltration be undermined. Murphy was more reasonable than his brother was, but he was much less so than what people who didn’t know him assumed. 

He stopped for a small period of time to decide on how best to approach and observe the camp, ears shifting in all directions, ready to run and hide at the smallest sound. He spotted a hillock of metallic materials and crawled cautiously up, clinging as he could to the debris, trying to guide himself with his whiskers, mindful not to injure himself. He was not disappointed when he finally sat on a wooden plank stuck just below the top. 

The orange cat had a good view of a big part of the dump and, in a small clearing, he could clearly four legged silhouettes run around and slip in or out of their sheds, hear their grunts or calls as they scavenged in search of anything remotely edible. A good number of the dogs slept in pairs or trios here and there. The alpha pair was nowhere to be seen yet. Still, he comfortably settled to take proper time to try to count and categorize the members of the pack. The task was made difficult by numerous visual obstacles but he had good hope that at this time of day most members were not gone out in expedition out of the dump. 

Ten to twelve, he decided, it was considerable but it could have been worse. About a third were either young, injured or medium sized canines, they could have belonged in a human garden. But at least three of them were abnormally giant beasts, with scowling eyes and powerful looking jaws that could definitely inflict serious harm. However, beyond appearance, what Murphy knew really mattered were the solidity of hierarchy and the complexity of their hunting strategies. 

He noticed that a thin grey hound and a muscular white and brown fighting dog seemed to serve as main communication nodes and coordinators. They probably helped the alphas distribute tasks or spoils’ shares. Sun had risen and Murphy had still not been found. He decided now was a good time to take a break and he began to clean his ears and face. Then one of the watchers suddently let out a strident yelp. 

They had finally caught up his smell, the tom thought worriedly as he flattened himself on the plank and cautiously looked down in several directions for a hideout. Several canines were now barking frenetically, running around the clearing and echoing signals between themselves. Four departed from the camp and he froze in fright when one approached the bottom of his observation tower. 

However, after a moment of sniffing, it simply circumvented the hillock and followed the way from which Murphy had come from earlier. Quietly, he came down among the debris and squatted underneath a partially toppled container in a space too small for any of the dogs. He would wait there until they calmed down and came back to camp. Then he would briefly return to his perch to check if the escape route he had mapped was usable. His muscles were still tense for it seemed, given the deafening magnitude of the barks, the canines had entered a frenzy. 

He didn’t have the time to wonder if they had found where he was hidden however, because when looking through the opening of his shelter he didn’t see a dog run across the debris littered path. It was the striped grey pelt of a cat. 

It had quickly gone out Murphy’s field of vision, but he could not help but feel slighly relieved when he saw the canine hunters following immediately behind, with fierce determination in their gait. He had to take advantage of the diversion. He slid out from under the container and climbed again to the opposite face of the garbage hill. 

The area seemed open as far as he could see so he balanced himself on the wreckage of a once wooden ship and cautiously walked down. The sound of furious barks seemed distant when he reached the ground, but the tom still tried to follow the same progression strategy that he used when he came in the dump. Stay discreet, stay near hideaways and not rush imprudently. Unfortunately he could not feel where the wind came from anymore because of the large items that shielded him from all sides. 

Eventually, after a period of time that felt unbearably mong, beyond a set of small piles of pottery and glass shards, Murphy finally saw a muddy but clear earthy path under the deep blue sky. He heard birds sing in the orange tree groves, carts’ wheels whir on the countryside roads and cats scream in terror and agony in the grass fields.


	10. Chapter 10

He already felt that it had been a terrible idea to come here when Dimitri, Jean, himself and two other strays, Gabriele and Elke if he remembered well, reached the bridge. An alarmingly fresh smell of dog saturated the air and put the senses of the expedition members on edge. If Klara was still alive there was no reason for her to be lingering here.

Hans urged Dimitri to turn back, told him as tactfully as he could that he had probably made a mistake and that the one thing that Klara would have wanted was to see his brother unharmed. But the tabby was filled with certainty, and only guided by his guilt and protectiveness. He wanted to save her, or see her one last time, regardless of his personal safety. Only he had found Klara’s trail in these labyrinthic suburbs, and it had taken Hans considerable effort to convince the youngest to set foot across those foreign roads beyond late Alois' territory.

Hans sighed. Strong, selfless, sibling bonds would never stop to puzzle him. The ginger had gotten along with his siblings for quite some time, but neither them, nor him, would endanger their lives for one another.

The five strays cautiously crossed an empty grazing field and fresh grass gently tickled their cheeks and nose as they progressed under the beautiful morning sun of the autumnal countryside. The red tom tried not to make a rustle or breathe too loudly despite his uneasiness. He saw the others’ ears shift around in vigilance as much as his, but it was difficult to hear anything beyond the loud chirping of birds.

About halfway through the open space, Dimitri saw or smelt something the others didn’t, and completely lost his mind. He cried his sister’s name with loud distress, and picked up pace until he had completely crossed the field. Jean hissed at the tabby to be quiet and tried to keep up, but the other had gone under the fence and disappeared behind a black pile of what looked like car tires. What was it doing here, in the middle of the groves?

The group of cats continued to hear Dimitri for a short while as they stepped warily in what looked like a human landfill before silence reigned again. They randomly stumbled on degraded items of various kinds for a while. Elke and Jean sniffed around between the metal corpses of machines and half whispered half called Dimitri’s name.

They nearly jumped out of their skins when a deafening roar hit their delicate eardrums and tenseness morphed in total panic. Gabriele was the first to immediately drop everything and turn around before one bark finally morphed into a cacophony of formidable snarls.

When Dimitri finally appeared again in their field of vision from the corner of a distant wooden hillock, one could tell from his expression that he was running for his life. Fight or flight finally kicked in and everyone ran away in the opposite direction.

Hans jumped above rock piles and wooden debris, went through the frames of cars and ships, praying that they were heading to where they had come from. His paws hit painfully against glass shards and blood pounded in his ears, but he could barely feel anything besides fear of death.

When the eclectic path became earthy, he noticed Jean's striped grey pelt ahead of him, and heard the raspy breathing of Elke behind. To his dismay, the barks and groans had gotten closer. He almost hit his head against the lower fence of the field in his rush and about halfway through the field he slowed down and looked frantically around. He swore in anger.

How mindless of him not to have immediately thought of an emergency hideout before adventuring here. By the time he reached the other side, he spotted a sturdy looking willow on the river bank and sincerely hoped it would do. He warned the others as loud as he could despite the pain in his throat, but his blood ran cold when he heard another, horrendous scream of agony.

He didn’t dare turn around just yet. Absolutely thrilled were now the barks, pungent was the smell of blood.

Hans finally heard the soft lapping of the waters and reached the roots. Elke and Jean were already commencing a slow escalation process, desperately clinging to the bark despite their lack of experience. Thankful for the feral upbringing his mother gave him, the ginger tom jumped at the midsection of the tree and used momentum to propel himself on the lower branches. He balanced himself, but before thinking of climbing higher to reach a more stable support, he could not prevent himself from looking at the green field again.

It took him a few seconds to understand what was happening but he soon realized the small group of dogs had disfigured Dimitri, shredded his belly and were now fighting between themselves for scattered pieces of meat.

Hans’ adrenaline began to wear off and he almost fell from his perch because of nausea. Pierre had crouched down next to him in search reassurance and he heard Elke whimper after she had settled herself, but his eyes could not leave the gruesome sight and his jaw could not speak.

The sun rose to zenith, and when they finished, the canines barked again, ran around, congratulated each other for the successful hunt for what felt like an eternity, before vanishing in the landfill again.

When calm came over the green pastoral setting once more, Jean fell weightily to the ground, reluctantly followed by the other members of the expedition. Everyone stiffly made their way to the wooden barrier.

They didn’t go under the fence, didn’t dare touch the grass. But they sat here, despondent, for a little while. Elke still hadn’t stopped crying and Gabriele, who had eventually left her hideout on the other side of the river, tried to comfort her with the best of her ability. Hans didn’t know Dimitri well enough to mourn him. He just felt tired, powerless. He wanted to stop being in charge for a little while, to curl up somewhere warm and safe.

Jean licked his bloodied paws with a wince. They only belatedly noticed that a fifth cat had come to stand at their side. Huge, with the hirsute fawn mane of a lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maine coon photo reference : Robert Sijka


	11. Chapter 11

“Where do you think you are going?” Hans chirped just as the older tom turned onto a side street. "I swear, tomorrow I might as well ask every single cat in Green Hill if they had seen you before letting you evade my inquiries so rudely. Or do you make it a habit to disappear as though the very earth swallowed you?" He talked enough for two people and his constant questioning and moving slowly but surely drove Murphy up the proverbial wall. 

Murphy had watched the other cat during the past day as they had made their way back to Alois’ turf, and learned that it was nearly impossible to know what he was really thinking. Hans was at one time calm, attentive to others, with always the most respectful words to say, and at another he would glide like a serpent from one side of his discussion partner to another, eloquently gesture with his ears, tail or whiskers, and be invasively inquisitive. 

“What do you want?", Murphy sighed. It was clear the other would not leave him alone, even though it had been an exhausting day. They were starving and everyone else was going their separate ways back home. 

“What do I want? Perhaps for you to talk to me? Your “case” and mine are obviously connected”. His mouth quirked into that smug, I-know-something-you-don’t-smile he’d been wearing every time he looked at Murphy this afternoon. The orange tom just shrugged. “You’re wrong. I just happened to be passing by”. Hans blinked and then laughed dismissively. 

“Now, now. It has been brought to my attention that you have been visiting good Sir Lukas to ask him about Jonas’s assassination circumstances. Or, perhaps, you already know who commited the crime? Am I mistaken?” His large ears sat tilted forward giving him an alert, aware look as if he was always paying attention to everything. Lisa had probably told him about his meeting with the beige tom, Murphy thought. 

The orange cat walked faster in the direction of the boulevard in between Alois’ territory and his but had to stop here and there to not bump into humans. They had taken care to take the least car infested streets but it was still one of the most chaotic times of day. “You’re mistaken.”, he grouched under his breath. Hans laughed again, a clear sound. 

“Then, surely, you must know that the dog pack is not culpable. Not of Jonas’ murder, at least.” This last sentence was uttered more quietly. Murphy kept silent but he had slowed his progression and his ears were now both turned in the other’s direction in clear interest. 

But of course, Hans had to play hard to get. He hummed mischievously and skipped around gracefully before smoothly speaking again. “I want to thank for helping out my friends the other day. Without you, Bastet knows what would have happened to those poor children". Murphy resisted a snort. The red tom was trying too hard to feign concern for the well-being of cats who were barely younger than he was.

"However, despite our gratitute, there is a detail that we could not help but note. We ask you to be kind enough to answer a question of the utmost importance for the investigation. You had to be on Alois’ territory the day of his murder to be able to come to my team's rescue in time. So, have you seen anything of an unusual character?” 

The sound of the boulevard had gotten more intense as they draw near. Car headlights blurred the street colors under the purple dusk sky and they stopped on the elevated kerb opposite to the one where Murphy had detected the dog pack and decided to meddle with the community's matters. 

He did notice something unusual, he thought as he looked directly at Hans. The latter was surprised by the sudden scrutiny and sheepishly looked down at the vehicles’ circulation for a brief moment. But the red tom quickly refused to succumb to intimidation so easily and firmly continued with his line of questioning. “Have you seen Alois?” Murphy sighed again. 

“Yes. - What can you say about the injuries?” The orange cat blinked and tried to remember. “A bite to the back of the neck”. – “And what about Dimitri’s?”. Murphy winced. It was not necessary to dwell on it. 

Hans nodded in understanding but the smug smile was suddenly back on his face. “And now with my own post-mortem examination. Three other cats died as you already know: Jonas, Anastasiya and Georg. Unfortunately, I had to base my analysis on testimony for two of… - Four.”

Hans’ smile faded and he stared directly at Murphy’s face, startled. “Pardon? – A she cat was found dead on my brother’s territory the day before last gathering.” Hans breathed, expression uncertain as he recovered from surprise. “Did your brother have an idea of the way she died?” he asked and Murphy wondered if Seamus’ description was reliable enough to reach any conclusion. 

Hans drew closer, far enough to respect the hierarchy, close enough for Murphy to feel the warmth of his breath. The lack of stripes in the dramatically ginger pelt was unsettling, as were the curious green-blue eyes. 

“Were the limbs cut clean from the body? Legs, tail, ears? Did she lose her eyes? Or were there any large bruises on the back and chest, fractures?” It was chilling to hear such words coming with such a calm tone from a face so innocent looking. After some hesitation, Murphy nodded. Hans stepped back and sat down, curling his tail around himself in satisfaction. 

“That is precisely the state I observed on Georg, and how Anastasiya’s and Jonas’ were described by witnesses”. And Murphy finally understood what Hans was getting at.

“Different cause of death”, he murmured and, as they turned towards the street again he noticed how bright the delicate silver moon had gotten in the night sky. They remained silent for a little while, Hans suddenly absorbed in his thoughts. 

Then Murphy got up and slowly began to go down the worn concrete stairs. “Murphy!” He didn’t turn around but decided to calmly listen to what the darker tom had to say before looking for a safe passage across the streets. It was a bit difficult because of the urban noise but Hans really tried to talk loudly enough. 

“I know it might sound silly. But believe me when I say that I genuinely seek to know the truth. And I believe discovering the source of the difference between Alois’ death and the others’ will bring clarity”. He hesitated. 

“I apologize for asking you this favor. I need your help for conducting my mission. To get Lukas, Moritz and the patriarchs to tell what they know. Sir, Please!” The high yet still soft pitch in his plea was moving, as relunctantly Murphy wanted to admit it, the distress in his voice sounded almost convincing. 

“I’ll think about it.”, he replied on an even tone before running through the metallic crowd of the boulevard. 

He was angry at himself, and ashamed of having scoffed earlier at Gabriele and Lisa for lowering their guard upon meeting with Set incarnate.


	12. Chapter 12

Upon returning back to the construction site, he didn’t find the motivation to roam around to find something to eat before collapsing in his usual hiding spot on the scaffold. 

He was awoken at sunrise by the soft drumming of rain from a thankfully dreamless sleep. He quickly realized that his stomach hurt terribly. He groaned, rolled on his side and hid his face from the light with his front paws. 

The red tom only had two days left before the gathering. Would Anton and Josef allow for a deadline extension regarding his report ? It had only been a moon phase since the beginning of the investigation, he was in theory not yet obligated to indicate a culprit, only show some sort of proof that he was in the direction of doing so. Some patrol members would surely support him despite what happened to Dimitri. 

He remembered red stained grass fields, sallow yellow of night lights giving relief to Alois' streets, a stern blue eye above a squarish muzzle and smiled. The ginger hoped he had made a favorable impression yesterday. He had been imprudent enough to reveal crucial elements of the investigation to gain Murphy’s trust, it would be a shame if the older cat didn’t get onboard.

He got up and stretched, mindful of his painful muscles and fading scratches from last phase. He then rubbed his nose from cheek to front, before reapplying saliva to the paw and, using semi-circular motions, groomed behind the corresponding ear, the forehead and over the eye. When finished, the process was repeated on the other side of the head. The feline then cleaned the front legs, ruff, shoulders, flanks, hind legs and tail with long strokes of his raspy tongue. 

Once again presentable, Hans exited his shelter after making sure rain had ceased to fall, and ascended the platform system adjacent to the building. A cold northern wind blew in his fur and reminded him of winter’s approach. He didn’t have much hope to find a bird up there but he had to look for good measure. 

He quietly walked around with his senses on alert, crouched and hung on. The sun moved some more in the covered sky and then, finally, a bird landed on one of the wall fragments. 

The red cat’s pupils dilated in concentration as he stealthily crawled towards the prey. Soon enough, he was in jumping range. "Mr Hans! Sir! Are you there?" 

The volatile flew away immediately upon hearing the loud meow and Hans cursed. He whipped his head around in search of the interloper and heard the voice again. He went down on the superior platform to look down at the street. Lisa, with her delicate ginger and black spotted white fur, was there, walking hurriedly among the rubble. She seemed to carry an urgent message. 

He loudly greeted her and she immediately raised her head in his direction. On the day following his first gathering, she had on her own initiative told him how she discovered Jonas’s body on Lukas’ territory five days before. She had quickly proven to be a diligent informant, spying on toms’ conversations, investigating where the patrols’ members were not allowed to go. A more righteous cat than Hans would have been ashamed of taking advantage of the crush such a kind cat had on him, caught as she was in an unhappy union on top of that. 

Was it a manifestation of Bastet’s mysterious ways that she was a calico just like Princess Anna was? Was it a warning sign? He jumped from platform to platform to come and listen to her properly. "What is the matter dear?" he asked smoothly but the light green eyes cat didn't seem any less restless. "Lukas…he…he’s gone missing! I’ve been asking and looking everywhere I could but…Oh, Sir, you have to help me! - Madam, Madam. Please, calm down. Everything is going to be alright. Just tell me, where did you see him for the last time? – He came for a visit on my territory and no one has seen him after he was gone!"

He scampered to the premises, crossed path with Pierre on the way and told him to go fetch the rest of the investigation team. He was then quickly led by Lisa through Marie’s turf and they managed to ignore the old she cat’s insults and questions. 

After a while however they found themselves stopped at the corner of a normal looking shoping street when Hans realized he was about to set foot beyond a border and into the territory that belonged to Georg previously and, if the smell was a good indication, Moritz currently. 

He wavered. Their last confrontation had almost taken a bad turn and the white tom had been opposed to the investigation from the start. Lisa urged him on however and after a while he recognized a part of the nicer residential areas of which he had visited the gardens a week ago. He tried to ignore the tempting chirping of birds in the tall trees, and in his rush almost didn’t perceive the scent of someone he would not have expected to see again so soon. 

The ginger tom called after Lisa and told her to go ahead, wait for the others. She asked what was wrong but he had already taken a right turn in a perpendicular street. One more crossroad, and there he was. 

This fellow was difficult to miss with his frame twice a big as that of a normal cat and his shaggy semi-longhaired orange pelt that looked like he was put in a full day mousing on a farm in a difficult weather condition. 

"Good morning!", Hans chirpped as amicably as he could. The other tom turned around only halfway and Hans had to force himself not to let his eyes linger for too long on the beautiful neck ruff or the muscular, big-boned body. 

"It seems as if I am not the only one devoted to justice. Are you about to find any important clues that might help solve the case, detective?" He tried to sound assertive but the other sent him an unimpressed look, although it was difficult to tell because it seemed like Murphy’s expression hardly changed at all. 

"Don’t know what you’re talking about. –Oh, don’t be silly". Hans retorted playfully before giving the orange cat a light nudge, which to his own surprise didn’t earn him a punishing blow, although Murphy didn’t show any positive reaction either. 

"I agree that the landscape gardeners have made an excellent work with the Hydrangeas". Hans showed the hedge closest to them with an undulation of his tail. "But I do not believe you would hold them in such a high regard to the point of taking a stroll in good old Moritz’s yard. Would you rather be interested in what happened to poor Lukas?" A slight shadow of confusion clouded the single blue eye. 

"Lukas? –Yes, his mate just barged in my home this morning and informed me of his sudden disappearance". But Murphy was silent again, absorbed in his own thoughts and Hans smile faltered a bit. "You know. This is becoming redundant. Why not just…- Fine, follow me”. 

The darker tom was taken aback. When Murphy turned around and steadily walked away, he wondered if the orange tom had a strange sense of humor. But he didn’t say anything else and Hans decided to trot behind. To his puzzlement, they didn’t take the direction of Lukas’ turf at all but headed north. 

After some time, the younger one had enough of being kept in the dark. “Listen. Is something troubling you? I might be able to help…” He suddenly noticed with revulsion that the cobbled streets had gotten substantialy dirtier and squealed when he almost stepped into a puddle of soiled water. 

He looked around at very busy large streets with many little shops of a great variety where humans husled and bustled and carried large bags around and the sound of long rows of cars and buses was almost deafening. He froze when he felt the earth shake and heard a deep rumble rise from beyond a group of buildings. Behind grating, he finally noticed the gigantic metalic wagons of a train making their way in the station. 

“Murphy, he asked trying not to sound skittish, could you tell me who this territory belongs to? -Lukas is not the only cat missing. I was on Moritz’s territory for a long time today, he never showed up.” Hans blinked and he pondered nervously. Was this only a coincidence? “What were you doing on his territory? He is not a witness. –Did you kill Alois?" 

The ginger opened his eyes and mouth in stupefaction as he tried to understand what the other had just said. “Pardon?”, he asked in a slightly outraged tone. 

“I saw you. At Alois’ side, right before the young ones got onto that tree. So did you do it?” Thankfully, Murphy had slowed down to leave time for Hans to process the accusation. “N…No! Of course not, I would never…" Murphy’s abruptly stopped and turned around in the other's direction, terribly massive, with steel in the color of his eye. "You want to become a patriarch?” Hans tensed in anxiety. Bastet, he was not left any time to collect his wits. 

“No…I mean…maybe…” What was he saying? Now was not the time to be open! But he could not stop faltering like a guilty kitten. “But this doesn’t mean I killed Alois! I just arrived in this town, I could not even have known where to find him alone! ” Murphy took a step forward in his private space and Hans could not help but step back. He felt so uptight, what was Murphy’s point? Why the menaces now? He cowered a bit, fur bristling in alarm, and looked up pleadingly. 

“Please you have to believe me. I did not do it!” He could hear the car horns and another passing train. The orange tom just looked at him, seemingly indecisive. Was Murphy going to beat him up for the sake of moral retribution? Or maybe because he saw him as a competitor?"

But the bigger cat sat, breaking his threatening posture, his ears now standing upright again. Hans swallowed and hesitantly sat too, slightly relieved. “Alright. But let’s be clear, Murphy said gravely. You cross me up, you’re dead.” It sounded too easy but Hans held his breath and nodded in agreement, waiting silently for more as the older cat looked at the trainstation buildings. 

“This, here, is Anton’s territory. I thought about what you said yesterday. About Moritz or Lukas not telling what they know. So I went to see Flora this morning, Moritz’s girlfriend. She told me he went off to Anton’s this morning, didn't say why”. Hans eyes drifted off to the tracks and wondered in skepticism. If both Lukas and Moritz cooperated to take over this land through coercion, how was this related to the case? Was Murphy accusing them? He remembered that Georg’s body clearly didn’t show any trace of cat violence. 

Murphy’s deep voice suddenly brought him back to the conversation. “Listen. I need us to be on the same page here…” And then he looked into Hans’ green eyes again. “It can get dangerous now. You sure you wanna do this?”


	13. Chapter 13

Set. 

God of confusion, disaster and suffering, once ruled on the margins of Bastet’s land, over the most barren, arid regions of earth. 

A millenium ago, foreign peoples were driven by Set’s power to the plains of the sacred river and brutally spelled its doom. From then on, humans lost their belief in the benevolence of Bastet little by little, and soon ceased to honor Her at all. 

To this day, Set continued to persecute humans and cats alike, persistently inspiring jealousy, war, manipulation, betrayal, plagues and destruction in his wake. Granny saw all evil as a manifestation of his influence. Yet, she was still decent enough not to tell them that the brutal nature of this monstrous jackal creature was among other awful things manifested in aggressive sexual behavior. That’s what Murphy had thought on the day he saw his Mom for the last time.

He and Seamus had just turned seven weeks and were about to proudly showcase a chicken they had stolen from a farmer. Their protector had fed them in the morning, but the kittens were already quite big for their age and gluttonous rascals.

But when the dusk sky turned bright red and grey, she had quickly grabbed and hidden the brothers under the bridge of the loggers village’s river. She told them with sadness but little explanation to leave the forest while she could hold “him” back. Murphy had bitten his tongue in fear but couldn’t prevent himself from taking a peek from their hideaway in the direction of where she had gone. 

Mom had met an unknown cat in the fern where the litter had played so often. 

Murphy never knew his father. Male cats are not known to be paternal, but they rarely harm their own children. Something must have happened to him. When a new tom like the one who had appeared this evening takes over a new territory, he destroys any kittens that are not his before founding his own line. 

The two orange brothers tried not to cry as they heard the sounds of struggle in the distance and crawled through the river rush in the direction of the dark pine forest. Murphy had never met a tom cat before and at that moment he could not help but think this could only be a manifestation of Set. 

Little did he know that he and Seamus would later also do and take just about anything they wanted from the weak with little to no compassion. 

After some turns into several bus and truck parkings, Murphy and Hans finally found an opening to access the platforms discreetly. The last thing they needed right now was to be caught by the impound. 

Murphy jumped and slowly climbed onto the grid, before balancing himself on top of it, careful not to injure his chest with the wire. He landed onto the gravel of the tracks with a thud and kept his ears attentive for any passing train or maintenance agent while he waited for Hans to follow suit. 

He was surprised at how nimbly the domestic cat almost reached the top of the grid in one jump, before using the wire with his hind paws to quickly propel himself in a supple movement above the obstacle. It usually took months of stretching, strength training to be able to accomplish something like that so easily. There was no way the red tom had been lounging on a couch all his life. 

It was awfully dark in this train station. Shouldn't at least a few humans be waiting on the platforms? Unless it was a freight area... On their right they could see the exit with its blinding midday sunlight and in the distance the various branches of rails splitting for different destinations. Some dirty brown wagons were parked, immobile, to the side. To their left, the platforms lined up, only partially lit by yellow and green light signals on the walls or hanging from the ceiling.

They spent a bit of time sniffing their immediate surrounds for a trail but Hans eventually had enough to walk in the dirt and chose to jump on the nearest platform to get a broader view of the station hangar. It was an exposed position and Murphy chose to stay on the track and keep his ears open as he cautiously walked alongside and below the backlight shadow of the other cat. 

Hans periodically turned his head around in watch of suspicious movement. Beyond the buzzing of human machines and the distant rumble of the city outside of the station, it took them a while to distinguish a faint voice in the darkness. At first, Murphy thought it was a series of human grunts or an artificial noise, but as they approached closer yet closer, trying not to jump to conclusions and get noticed pointlessly, some words of cat language became recognizable. 

He saw Hans come to a standstill, tense and silent. His pupils shone brightly and stared at something in the darkness of the station. He heard him gasp after startled whispers suddenly resonated in the hall like car brakes. 

He’d dragged Hans along with him into danger and he thought his heart was going to stop when the ginger sped after the dark shapes breaking free from the shadows of the farthest railway. 

The older tom nearly fell down one of the platforms as he ran and leaped after them, blind and deaf to all else but the sudden, harsh desire to see Hans whole and unhurt. Where did that come from? Murphy heart thudded in his chest as he made it to the other side of the trainstation, but then he didn’t have time anymore to figure out this sudden case of protectiveness. 

At the very end of the last platform, he finally saw them in the dim light. Hans had already secured a teeth grip in the beige scruff of Lukas as they rolled around in a chaotic flurry of claws and fangs, trying to slice with their hind paws against the soft flesh of the other’s belly. But their lock fell on the tracks, and the force of the impact on concrete loosened the ginger’s jaw. 

Lukas took the opportunity to twist his body and he brought his front paw down hard on Hans's head, knocking him off. Murphy was about to reach them, but he just had the time to instinctively turn to the side to face against a white silhouette that had sprung up from the railway like a ghost.


	14. Chapter 14

Adrenaline raced through his system as he dodged Lukas’ repeated slashes. He ducked, leaped sideways, twisted around and rolled onto his back before springing back on his paws and starting again until the other cat began to reel in drowsiness. 

He heard Murphy and who he assumed was Moritz growl and hiss as they grappled on the platform above. His chest suddenly felt warm with a strange but exhilarating confidence. Slashing, clawing, and leaping together, he felt like their pair was an unstoppable whirlwind of power.

The ginger stepped back, used his body language to lead the beige tom to believe he was intimidated, but then unexpectedly circled around and lunged to slice his chest open multiple times. Lukas yowled in pain and anger, but before he could fight back, Hans had already jumped back out of striking range. 

They circled each other some more, trying to find a new strike angle until both were beginning to wheeze in exhaustion. It was getting obvious that the end of the fight was impending and that one would have to submit before anyone was gravely injured.

“You murdered Alois!” declared Hans while ruffling his red pelt in an intimidating gesture. Lukas froze, his eyes wide and uncertain. The youngest was about to tell him to turn himself in to face the community’s judgment, but a more predatory idea materialized in his mind. 

“You’ve been dragged into this. What you only ever wanted was to protect your wife, am I right? Enjoin Moritz to give up this land to my friend and I. No one will ever need to know what happened”. 

But Lukas only flicked his ears in disbelief and then hissed in scorn. “Fuck off, pet trash! Enough with this dogshit!” Well, it was worth a try. Becoming the shadow overlord of these lands with Murphy at his side didn’t sound like a bad perspective but Bastet obviously dictated otherwise. 

Hans charged at his opponent again but this time the latter jumped unexpectedly high into the air. The red cat winced when he felt him crash down with all his weight on his back. He stumbled to the side and felt Lukas twist around him and pin him down with all his remaining strength. 

He yelped loudly when sharp teeth sank in his left ear. Held and shook with jerky motions.

Pain was stunning but his eyes, now at ground level, still felt attracted by a puzzling, small shivering movement of the pebbles of the track. 

His groans turned into a scream when he realized what this meant and he desperately begged Lukas to let him go, but the latter had not yet noticed the escalating rumble of danger. Hans lashed out with his back legs, taking all weight on his front paws, to no avail. 

Blinding light suddenly emphasized every detail in the station and he heard Murphy shout beyond the continuous thunderclap. Finally, Lukas stopped rattling the red tom's head. 

Dread of death erased everything else from Hans' mind as he pulled his head forward, fighting against Lukas’ loosening grip. He felt the skin tear up and ignored the sharp pain as he messily, desperately clawed at the wall ledge. He cried out, struggled and startled in panic when he felt teeth grip tightly at the back of his neck again. 

But Hans' mind blanked when he realized in astonishment he had been heaved. 

And relief cut his breath when he realized he was feeling the platform ledge under his paws again, despite how ominous Lukas' screams sounded as they disappeared in the raging winds and the formidable clatter of the passing train.

He didn’t muster the strength to turn around and see if the beige cat had made it, or move at all, as he loudly gasped for air and felt like the beating of his heart made his whole body quail to the point that he could fall if he dared take a step. In prolonged shock, but muzzle buried in a dense, comfortingly warm neck ruff, he recognized a familiar smell. 

The rumbling of the vehicle eventually morphed into a painful squeal before the train station became silent again as it stopped. Teeth still firmly held Hans' scruff. 

He perceived a heartbeat under the fur and he sighed, cogent but not wanting to move just yet. When he recovered his breath, the jaw finally slackened and Murphy hesitantly moved back. The youngest cat felt strangely upset at the loss of contact. 

He forced himself to remain standing however and looked up at the orange tom’s face. He wondered if relief was giving hallucinations, because it seemed like Murphy, pupil open and fur tousled, was shaken too. Hans reluctantly broke eye contact and tried to take a look at the wheels of the train, and the tightness is his stomach made him turn back immediately. 

“You…you…thank you.” he finally breathed out shakily, before hesitantly asking what happened to Moritz. Murphy announced in a neutral tone that he was gone in the middle of the fight, and that’s when Hans noticed the red trickle on the other tom’s shoulder. He opened his mouth but they both tensed again when they heard guttural noises of humans echo in one of the underground staircases.


	15. Chapter 15

No matter how hard they looked around while trying to avoid seemingly agitated bipeds, they couldn’t find Anton in the train-station. Hopefully he may simply be off to his mate’s territory or taking a nap somewhere hidden. Both he and Hans were in bad shape and it was clear that the earlier they reached their respective hideouts the better.

At the end of the afternoon, they had successfully limped back from the city center to the hedged gardens of Moritz’s property. The pale sunlight was doing little against the autumn winds that numbed ears, paws and tails. Murphy picked up the pace through the grass and forced himself to ignore a sudden pained whimper from a few steps behind him. 

“…phy! Wait…please…I can’t…” 

The bigger tom fought against the pain in his shoulder as he went through shrub after shrub, but he soon realized he had stopped hearing the other cat’s breathing and a wave of concern washed unexpectedly. 

He turned around and saw that Hans had just cowered on the spot and was holding his eyes closed tight, as if in pain. Yet when Murphy went to check on him, he couldn’t understand what was wrong. Sure the partially ripped ear didn’t look good but his legs and lean flanks seemed fine. So why was he unable to walk like that? Was he sick?

It was clear that the other would not move anytime soon and Murphy couldn’t stand the crippling, puzzling doubt anymore. He asked him, drawing very close to be able to hear a faint, miserable answer from the dark furred tom. 

He huffed in relief, held himself back from slapping the pretty little head when Hans said that he had just not eaten for three days and was about to pass out from hunger. What to do now, Murphy asked himself as he considered the curled up ball of shivering red fur on the ground. He could try to drag him back to the construction site but this would be too dangerous. He sighed. 

This was getting silly. He was not Hans’ damn mom! It was probably best if he left him cope with his problem on his own. Seamus was probably waiting for him now, wondering why he had kept disappearing this week. Speaking of that, Murphy would probably need to have a decent explanation for his shoulder injury. But Hans started whimpering again, and the older tom’s throat constricted in worry, just at the thought that Hans would probably be unable to defend himself if Moritz showed up again. 

He looked around the garden and spotted a lavender bush whose nice but strong smell could maybe hide a cat’s. He then grabbed Hans and told him to stay put in there. Green eyes opened a bit but he didn't get an answer.

After a little while of careful exploration across the lawns, or observing the tree branches, his ears picked a messy buzz of human conversations. Murphy crossed a hedge with curiosity and saw what looked like a human shop with nice looking white tables and chairs on the other side of the street. He crossed cautiously, hid behind a sign and examined the plates from afar. The food didn’t look very familiar but beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

After he had found a good target, he snuck up on a talking couple of women and slid under the table. He quickly got out, and while they were frozen in surprise, balanced on hind legs, extending his long body upward, and snatched whatever was on one of the plates. He heard them shriek but he had already fled too far away to be caught. 

Bread and bit of ham, he hoped Hans would be fine with that. He hurried despite his tiredness and the grass that unpleasantly scratched his face, but felt better than he should when he saw the familiar rusty color in the purple blossoms. He heard him sniff a bit and saw his large pupils open drowsily. 

Hans clearly growled like a kitten when he grabbed the food and Murphy had to suppress a laugh. Hans would be fine for the time being so the orange cat took a few steps away in the garden towards the alder and only tree. He laid down in the grass as he waited for the other to finish. He didn’t notice his alertness wear off. 

Murphy heard a series of distant whistles and, through the remaining brown leaves, noticed a group of passerines circle in a cloud like formation high up in the cloudy sky, before slowly disappearing in the dark blue of the horizon. No one knew exactly how the birds oriented themselves year after year or where they went. Did they cross the rough seas, not sleeping for days and fighting against merciless winds? Did they reach the warm sandy lands described in the legends, where lizards ate cats and where a single fish from the sacred river could feed a whole family? He was so tired, lavender was known for its relaxing smell. He couldn’t help but drowsily close his slited blue eye. 

He flinched when he felt a rough pressure against his injured shoulder but froze in surprise when he realized Hans was cleaning the wound with long, careful strokes of his tongue. What nerve. Murphy had probably been too kind for the younger, weaker cat to think they were good friends like that. But he didn’t muster the motivation to push the other away when he briefly turned his head and saw a flash of bright, concentrated irises. 

The wound was almost at the back of the neck, it would be difficult for Murphy to clean it on his own anyway. So he just grit his teeth through the sting. After a little while, the red tom left the injury but didn’t back off right away. Instead, he lingered at the back of the head. His strokes were now more gentle, soothing. Murphy felt too comfortable. Social grooming was more common between two she-cats or a she-cat and a tom, he thought. 

“What you’re doing? -Your fur is quite messy. You should take care of it more often. -Nonsense”, the orange tom said while finally pulling away from the dark cat. He ignored the tightening of his heart when he saw what looked like disappointment on Hans’ face. 

“How was life with the humans?”, then came the spontaneous question. It’s not like Murphy didn't have vague notions about domestic life but he was still curious about the other tom's past. Hans looked away at the street tree tops, his whiskers flattened against his cheeks, as if he was thinking about how to answer. 

“For most of my life, I lived…uhm…in a two storey, white concrete house with…wooden chairs and tables…and large red framed windows. I was separated from my litter shortly after weaning and taken in by a male and a female human who would regularly provide me with kibbles. They would rarely let me leave the house, therefore, when they left me behind on an unknown street with no explanation, I was at loss when it came to hunting. It only got worse after the rats' elimination of course…” 

Murphy was dismayed. As the discussion went on, it sounded more and more like Hans knew even less of what pet life was about than he did. Why was the younger cat making up all this? But before he could point this off, Hans quickly changed the topic. 

“What about you? Have you always lived at Green Hill?” Damn little… A vague memory of scuffle with other stray cats at the Snuggly Duckling bandit camp came to his mind. “Nah. Was raised in the woods way south from here.” Hans’ face lightened up in curiosity. “Were there any human settlements around? How was the food? -Lumberjacks. Fine. Some squirrels, shrews… -What kind of trees would grow there? What about the flowers? Were there any lilies of the valley? I know they are toxic, but I love them still, they are so beautiful...”

Back again at the construction site where Pierre and a few other investigation members anxiously asked about the morning events, Murphy felt better with a quenched thirst and Hans sitting all normal and talkative next to him. The red tom had told them about the chase and the suspected involvement of Lukas and Moritz in Alois’ murder. He didn’t give away the beige cat’s death but claimed that he had also escaped instead. Reactions were quite mixed. 

Some agreed hesitantly, seemingly convinced, others were in complete disbelief. Jean, in particular, was very defensive. His short tabby fur was all spiky as he explained how his cousin Lukas was too noble and brave to do something so cowardly, and pointed out how protective he was of his mate. Speaking of Lisa, she only stood there, silent and gloomy. 

After a moment of reflection, Hans spent some time selecting the cats who would help him prep the witnesses and present his report. The dark tom sighed once everyone was ready and leaving for the night hunt. He turned towards Murphy. 

“Tomorrow night, I will present my investigation report. Hopefully some of my colleagues will be able to back my views. I also need contributions from the witnesses of course. Marie, Brownie, Lisa and..." Hans smiled. "...and you.” The fawn tom was certain that Set was after him when Hans looked at him like that, with those round hopeful pupils, or when he gently touched his paw with his own. Again what nerve. He should have immediately gone back home after he had given him something to eat. 

“There’s something we’re missing”, Murphy stated in an attempt to relieve his own awkwardness, he felt ill at ease under the younger cat’s scrutiny. Hans' smiled dropped and he looked away. “I know. Moritz and Lukas can’t be the one responsible for what happened to Georg or Anastasiya... -What you gonna do? -I don’t know. I do not have much time left.” He felt the little fox cat lean even closer. Murphy ignored the odd tingle, something he had not felt for a very long time. 

“You should tell them it was the dogs. -Maybe…and what will ‘you’ do?" Hans’ fluffy cheek touched Murphy’s good shoulder for a goodbye cuddle. Would he ever stop taking Murphy off guard like that? 

“I should go.” “What for? Hans’ face said, I want you to stay here with me.” His chest pressed against Murphy’s, his soft pointed ears tickled his chin. Good thing no one was there to see them. 

There was steel in the younger tom’s voice as he said, “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.” And this time Murphy laughed. 

“I don’t plan to.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Oh! And you wouldn’t believe what I found yesterday behind the indoor market. Now, sure, humans generally leave good stuff there, but ‘that’ was just incredible. There was a giant stack of at least ten cardboard boxes in perfect condition! No, I’m not lying! Humans are just fricking morons sometimes. Why would they leave something so useful behind is beyond me. I could spend hours hiding in these!” 

Hans nodded patiently at Brownie’s anecdotes as the investigation team prepared to leave and meet with Marie after a ‘good’ kibbles breakfast. Hans still couldn’t believe that he had agreed to eat bread yesterday. Yet he only felt dizzyingly happy and warm at the memory. From time to time he wondered, tried to figure out exactly when and why the aching in his chest began. 

He would long remember with unnerving clarity the imposing sight of Murphy as he sat stoically under the alight streetlamps in Alois’ district, or the sensation of tongue against broad shoulders and coarse fur. 

Nothing could bring him more solace that the memory of this dear cat lounging under the alder tree of one of Moritz’s gardens, of how the golden dusk light spilled between the branches and mingled with the convoluted patterns on the broad face and brightly orange back. Hans knew then. He had clearly felt the breath catch in his throat and almost believed that he would swoon for real, prey to another kind of hunger. 

Murphy had fed him, looked after him when he was too tired to move and even escorted him home when he felt better. There had been such concern and disarming softness in the azure of his eye, Hans had not even considered the risks he took when he tended to the wounded shoulder of another tom. He knew he should be ashamed of being so vulnerable and dependent, but he couldn’t help but want to see the Murphy again. Maybe in the early afternoon? Just to prep him for the report of course. He hadn’t shown up at the construction site this morning. Was he taking some well-deserved rest? Or had he gone on another solitary expedition? 

Brownie must have seen something in his eyes, because he gives him a concerned look, but he brushes him off, tells him that he’s fine. It’s a spectacular lie. Hans feels like he’s been blown off his feet, like he has suddenly plunged headfirst into the freezing sea, lost in a briny darkness. He feels anything but fine, but he sits straight and keeps quiet even as something burns right through the heart, eats away at his chest—and in the end, that is no one’s fault but his own. The odds of a long-term friendship with another cat so strong, so self-reliant were already too low to hope for anything more substantial. 

He breathed deeply and attempted to clear his mind, looked over at Elke, Ivan and Pierre who ran around in the flowerbeds. He had chosen them yesterday evening among the twelve investigation members to actively assist him during the report presentation. Yet all they could think about now was playing like kittens. Ivan tiptoed, arched his back and tail, lowered his head down, pretending to be threatened by Gabriele who stiff-legged walked in his direction. "You're going to get me!" and "I'm going to get you back". "Look at that monster I'm going to slay!" exclaimed Elke in mock aggression. She may be Ivan’s aunt, but she was way too old for frisking so, thought Hans with mockery. He frowned in puzzlement when he realized the fourth member of his small team, Gabriele, still hadn’t come back. 

He had sent her to fetch Lisa, who also hadn’t shown up at the construction site this morning. It was understandable after her mate’s…disappearance but he was still worried. He also thought about Anton. Before lunch, the main team would split up, to look on his territory if he was back, and go meet his mate, an old she cat named Darya. For good measure, he had also asked the eight other investigation members to ask to anyone who would answer if they had seen the patriarch recently. The last thing he wanted was to be faced with Josef alone. The old cat was either an insane devout or a machiavelism artist. Hans had only met him once but he knew better than to think he was likely to receive Hans accusations against two dominant and feral born cats positively, unless maybe if he saw an opportunity to take over their territories. 

“Huh? You again?! Can’t you just leave me alone, I told you everything I know already!” He felt a migraine creep in. Marie would probably take some time to convince, let alone prepare for the testimony. Elke used their similar ages to her advantage and tried to slowly convince the old cat that Lukas or Moritz disgrace would be favorable to the elders’ tranquility. After the grey she cat had calmed down, the ginger tom patiently tried to explain what she would have to say exactly, so that her story fit with the general narrative. 

“Madam. You said you found Georg’s body on you territory six days ago, in the early morning, is that right? -Yes, right. -And what do you say if someone asks you what you were doing the evening of the murder? -I say I was at the gathering. -Right. But so were Moritz and Lukas. When did you go back home? -It was almost dawn. -Had Moritz and Lukas already left then?” 

She was still hesitating when he asked her this question since she actually didn’t know, but Hans had convinced her to give the answer he wanted. “Yes, yes. I think so. -What did you do when you found the body? -I told Pierre. -Why him? -He’s my neighbor. I had to tell someone.” Hans nodded and breathed in and looked solemnly into the grumpy amber eyes. 

“Did you look at the body when you found it? -Yes. -Do you think, as Mr. Hans claims based on his examination, that he died from a deep bite to the neck?” She frowned. “Possible. There was so much blood… -Did you discover Georg when you came back. -Well no, I took a nap first. Only a few hours later I found him, the sun had risen.”

“The Sun…You should be watched…” Hans quickly spinned his head around and sure enough the last cat he wanted to see was there, below the balcony of a building near the indoor market they had climbed on for safety. The ginger could feel the yellow calculating gaze on the faces of the five young cats. Ivan and Gabriele squirmed in discomfort on the drying rake and Hans jumped on the security barrier to glare at the interloper. 

“What can I do for you Sir?” He asked while Josef calmly sat down and rolled his tail around his paws, holding Hans’ gaze. “Bastet…Bastet has told me what you must do.” Hans ears tilted in consternation. What next... 

“And what is that? -You should be watched by the eye of Rê”. Hans smiled awkwardly. “But I am. I have been watched, Sir. -Bastet conveys the forces of the Sun. They must be appeased by the proper rites before she takes revenge on those who rebelled against Her”. Hans tried to maintain a neutral expression despite his irritation. He told Marie and the others to wait a moment and leaped down right next to Josef. 

He straightened as much as he could, condescending. “You agreed to say a ‘simple prayer’ before the report delivery. I am sure She will be appeased well enough. Now please, we need to finish our preparations if we wish the gathering to go smoothly.” The patriarch hummed, as if distracted, and then murmured so softly that he couldn’t even be heard from the balcony. 

“It's the only way to salvation...The appeasement ritual must take place. -I'll let you say two prayers tonight if you want.”, sniffed Hans derisively. “Take the nepeta cataria... Be forgiven...For this offense that you've done”. Hans whiskers tingled and he frowned. 

“What offense are you... referring to, Josef? Is truth seeking an offense?” He realized he had also lowered his voice, a bad feeling had chilled his bones all of a sudden. He froze in unease when the older tom’s face drew near. 

“Murder is.” Hans tried not to let the fur on his back rise up. 

“Pardon? -Lukas was a nice cat, very pious, a good mate.” The ginger pretended to gasp in disbelief and kept his voice low with difficulty. “Lukas is…dead? -Yes. Anton has discovered his body on his territory this morning. When your friends came to visit this morning, they told us how you and your other friend were the last cats to have seen him...in the very place he was found dead.” 

Hans felt his stomach plummet. “You think I…You are sorely mistaken! -Maybe, maybe not. You should not make things difficult. I had a lot of sympathy for Lukas and my heart aches at the thought that I will never see him again…” Josef’s tone quivered in sadness, but his pale eyes were as indifferent as the first time they had met. 

Hans finally realized what irked him the most in the patriarch: he saw himself, older. 

“I am innocent! Josef, please, you have to believe me…” The red tom tried to plead, but he saw the patriarch’s smug face and knew it was useless. “Even if you could convince me…do you think you could convince everyone else? You are a filthy pet, Hänsel. You’re worth less than a rat. I could tell everyone about your schemes to take over the community, how you killed Alois in cold blood... But Bastet is gracious. I may forgive you and bring you back in Her good graces. However, for me to back your witty little demonstration tonight, you need to agree with the simple fact that Moritz and Lukas couldn’t have done it.” 

Hans’ blood had run completely cold. He was so tense he could not speak, so he simply nodded. Josef smiled and then his voice rose back to normal volume, paternal and kind. “Good. Please, be at the green hill before dusk. Alone. There is something I need from you. Your friends should be ready when gathering starts.” 

And with that the light grey cat waved amicably at Marie and the others with a flick of his tail and finally turned around to leave.


	17. Chapter 17

He had asked Seamus again about what Leonie’s body had looked like but it had proved to be quite difficult to get a precise answer. He was extremely suspicious so Murphy eventually had not other choice but to tell him why he had been absent so often this week. It hurt to see his brother so offended by not being involved in his investigations but Murphy didn't really have a good excuse to calm him down. 

He had been doing something reckless, not to mention potentially useless, and didn't want to risk the life of the only family member he knew for this. It was not the same thing as the usual shoplifting. Yet Murphy also told him about the testimony that he would have to give at the gathering this evening, and, as expected, Seamus was not thrilled. 

The situation only escalated when Hans showed up unexpectedly after lunch. Seamus rushed to the border where the red cat waited and would have clawed at his face if Murphy didn’t stand quickly between them. 

“You pet trash! Over my dead body we’ll do as you say!” spat the two eyed fawn tom. “Please, Sir. There is no need to get so upset." Hans defended himself politely despite his visible nervousness in the presence of two other cats both much larger than he was. "We only need short testimonies… - No! Get lost before I really get angry!” But Murphy decided to stand his ground and stood directly before his brother who looked at him with confusion. 

“I will do it, because I decided to. That’s my problem if something goes wrong.” Seamus blew through his nose, his tail whipped the air and his blue eyes were dark with displeasure. 

“Fine. But don’t let him onto my turf!” he said nevertheless after a small moment, before leaving the park without saying when he would be back, or if they would see each other at the gathering. Murphy grumbled with embarrassment.

“Are you alright?” The orange tom's attention was suddenly brought back to his guest by a discreet, tender trill. Before he could say anything, Hans skimmed like a breath against his side and brushed his fox like tail against Murphy’s chin. It really caught him off guard and he retracted from the hug more awkwardly than he would have liked before leading them to a comfortable spot near the pond. 

“I hope you are well rested. Everything is almost in order on my side. Elke, Pierre, Ivan and Gabriele know their parts and Brownie and Marie are ready to testify. It was not too difficult to convince them that all victims were wounded in the neck, although I will mostly leave the floor to my aides of course…” Hans was stressed, he figured when they laid down next to each other on a sun warmed grass spot. His chatter was as smooth and cheerful as usual when he explained what Murphy would have to say about the day he had found Alois dead, but his green eyes constantly shifted from a direction to another. Was he still fearful of Moritz's looming presence? His hunch was confirmed when Hans told him about Lukas’ body discovery this morning. The investigation team had been half convinced that it was an accident subsequent to the chase. Still, Murphy wondered if everyone would buy this. 

“There is another concern.” added the dark ginger before stretching in the little dark blue and yellow prim roses, showing off the flexibility of an athlete in a velvet dress. 

“Lisa will testify. She, along with the rest of us, seemed convinced that the dog pack was responsible for the first victim’s murder. But there is a detail I promised not to disclose. Officially, Jonas was present on Lukas’ territory for reasons unknown. In reality, she had been bringing him in at long but regular intervals to eat at a distribution center. They were additionaly having an affair, but she knew he would not be strong enough to defeat her mate.” Hans wetted his paw with his pink tongue to polish his chest and his sweet face and Murphy could not help but stare. Hans paused and softly blinked at him, a look at night in the green mirror of the day. 

“Hum…There is something I would like to ask you…Would you have any idea what…appeasement rites consist of in this city?” Murphy frowned in confusion. “Appease what? - I am not sure. The Sun? Forces of Bastet?” Murphy had visited many places with his Brother since they had left the woodsmen's village, but habits around the cult of Bastet varied from a place to another so he just kept a basic grasp of religious concepts to not offend anyone. Why was Hans interested in this all of a sudden? And why did he seem so perturbed, shuddering each time a human was heard walking on the path behind the shrub that hid them? 

“How’s your ear?” Murphy asked, trying to sound casual. Hans slowly fluttered his dark eyelashes again. “Mrrmm? It still hurts a little…” The ginger didn’t seem too bothered by pain, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned and his eyes soft with something strange in them. Murphy tried not to think about the tingle in his stomach.

He stood carefully and, before the other could react, laid back down, huddled against Hans’ side. He began to lap at the tom’s scruff, quickly making his way up to his ears. The darker cat flexed his claws in embarrassment but didn’t protest. He hadn’t thought before acting, but it would be awkward to stop now, Murphy thought. He tried to be particularly cautious with the right ear, keeping his licks very light. It was almost cut in half but thankfully it didn’t seem infected. Strangely, if Hans was bothered by the whole thing, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he seemed to relax into the touch, his eyes closed in contentment and his head now rested on his front paws. Murphy took it as permission to continue. 

The auburn fur was very fine in texture, softer than he ever remembered his past mates’ to be. Murphy internally shook himself for thinking that. He finished grooming the head and sat up to lick at Hans’ shoulders, making slowly his way down his back with long strokes. He had been so focused in his task that he hadn’t noticed when the ginger had begun to purr softly under him. When he was done with the fluffy tail, he tried to lay back down and take care of the face but he felt the younger cat press subtly closer, and unexpectedly roll over to let him access the belly.

Murphy forced himself to slowly breathe in and out. He felt lightheaded and too warm all of a sudden, the tingle in his chest getting almost unbearable. Although the pelt looked at bit darker along the spine line, it lightened under the neck, he noticed as he leaned down. When he carefully pressed his nose against the fluff of Hans' neck, trying to keep his instincts under control as completely as possible, he distinctly heard the deep breaths, felt the light pulse and realized he could have sunk his teeth and killed the other instantly if he had wanted to. Instead, Murphy didn't move, content with slowly sniffling the distinct and delicate smell of the smaller cat for a little while. He was about to start grooming again when he felt Hans jerk underneath. 

Murphy immediately moved back. Was this too much? Hans was not making eye contact as he rolled back on his legs and stood up almost in a hurry, but he was not saying anything yet. The sun was setting behind the trees and it looked like his fur was inflamed. Unease was back again in his irises and Murphy felt awful for scaring him like that. 

“Murphy…I…Thank you.” He looked towards the shadow of the green hill where the gathering would take place tonight and sighed. “I’m sorry. There are still some matters I need to discuss with the team. I will see you tonight, alright?” He seemed down but Murphy decided not to pressure him.


	18. Chapter 18

“Sir, are you alright?” he tried to put on a smile as he looked at a curious Lisa, while still listening to Anton and Brownie’s exchange, one on an iron bench and the other on the earthy ground below. Right now the tuxedo was disclosing the day and time he had found Anastasiya’s body. Nothing that could raise suspicion here. 

“Yes, of course. But I was about to ask the same to you my dear.” Her head lowered a little but she didn’t seem too distraught. “I’m okay.” Hans looked over at Anton again and felt his own breathing accelerate in nervousness when he spotted the second patriarch a few steps behind the bench. He looked over to his right and, surely, among the little crowd of cats gathered at the top of the grassy hill that humans had arranged as a park, he saw Moritz’s menacing blue eyes. He quickly averted his gaze back on Brownie. 

The ginger could hardly believe he was still alive after agreeing to separately meet Josef just a moment ago. Maybe he truly was a fool in the end, he noted bitterly in a brief moment of insight. 

“Now the recognition of the gruesome nature of the wounds might have not led to any conclusion if three days ago, Klara had not mysteriously disappearing, leaving only a trail leading to a dump east of Green Hill…” As Ivan was recalling the events leading up to Dimitri’s doom, Hans could feel the shivers of reminiscence run down his spine. Meanwhile, Jean looked like he was about to vomit, presumably at the memory of the tabby's agony. Hopefully this wouldn’t impair his ability to assist Lisa during her testimony.

Beyond the whispers of the audience, he could hear the soft chant of night insects in the dark shrubs and the faraway rumble of cars in the illuminated streets. Idly, he turned around again while Anton was dismissing Brownie and looked through the swarm of gleaming orange, green and blue eyes of felines and, alas, the moon light didn’t show him what his heart yearned for. 

No broad chest of muscles and regal honey pelt was standing there on large, round paws. No tufted ears twitched above those of anyone else’s at the report words. No blue eye washed over him like an implacable ocean wave. 

“We noticed this dog pack to count at least ten members. Their hunting ground seem to start from the eastern popular area but…” He had a hard time to get rid of the straining lump of distress in his throat. What could hold Murphy back? Did he back down on his promise? 

As time went on, the red cat realized that the older tom had many reasons to and was surprised that he was even disappointed. 

Hans scoffed. When the sun had set on Murphy’s territory, he had wanted to try to articulate how it felt like, being touched with so much affection, being looked at with so much gentleness. But, thankfully, he had stayed on guard and kept his mouth shut. 

Even if they had known each other for weeks, it would have been unrealistic to hope that Murphy would get interested in a deeper connection with a people pleaser in appearance, a cutthroat social climber at heart. With a past damned by crimes and a present built on deceit, one could only settle for superficial relationships.

Still, his chest was feeling tight. It was unfair… Murphy could afford to be direct, to ask for social grooming from another cat from time to time because he was powerful. Because he was special. Whereas Hans couldn’t afford it, despite his attempts to marginalize his gifts, because he would be ripped to pieces the moment he thought he was safe.

But again, it was hypocritical to complain. Hans had always endorsed the law of the strongest, of the most cunning. As long as he was weak, it would be only fair for him to be belittled and cast aside, by his Father, by his brothers or by the dominant cats of another colony, Murphy included.

He blinked unshed tears and, thankfully, his attention was drawn back to the issue at paw when Marie was brought to the front of the blonde furred patriarch, who seemingly had a hard time keeping up with her drivel. However, despite the comical display, the crowd whispers had turned to terrified exclamations, as the possibility of being devoured by a dog pack had suddenly become the high priority menace.

"Maybe, we should leave before it's too late! -Nonsense. One can find stray dogs everywhere and hopefully ours will stay in their dump..."

At the moment Hans decided to attempt on Queen Elsa’s life, he had chosen a path that forever forbade relying on another’s love for happiness. Fulfillment of successive objectives greater than himself or the sensation of political clout on the masses could be the only sources of temporary thrill in his life. What Hans knew he should be concerned about right now was the fact that if Murphy didn’t give testimony regarding the discovery of Leonie’s and Alois’ bodies, the credibility of the investigation report could be put at risk. 

To his relief, it seemed like Marie was not too confused about the last minute small change in testimony content as she explained how she found Georg, without mentioning Moritz's or Lukas' roles. Later, as expected, Lisa stayed evasive on the conditions in which she had found Jonas and once again it was suggested that dogs might be the source of the cats' woes. 

Now was the final narrative. When she was finished and brought back to the group with Gabriele at her side, Hans stepped to the front, motioning to Pierre to stand with him with a wave of his tail. 

“Thank you Lisa, Gabriele. We are very sorry to announce that we have not succeeded in finding any clues regarding what happened to Loenie. But we will now be recounting the conditions in which this investigation team discovered late Mister Alois, who had been praised by many as a good and magnanimous father and leader. Two days following the last gathering, an investigation patrol including myself came to the eastern popular area with the intention to meet him directly, and request for information regarding suspected dog presence. Since no once came to us on the border, we took the admittedly impolite but necessary liberty to enter his territory in order to gain knowledge of his whereabouts. We parted to cover more field and I eventually discovered his body in the superior passageway of a residential building. His neck had been fatally bitten, which suggests a canine origin. This supposition was confirmed by the fact that subsequently to my findings, the rest of the investigation group was assaulted by a dog in a nearby street…” 

As the red tom coolly, reverently uttered those words, his cold eyes were drawn to his target.


	19. Chapter 19

“Eye of Rê, Protectress and Bringer of Joy, you, like the gentle morning sun, brighten my heart and, with your guidance, I share sunlight with the world. Your paw prints are marked on my life and in return I send you my love.  
Blessed be my feet which walk the path of Bastet.  
Blessed be my heart that beats the drum of Her compassion.  
Blessed be my eyes, so that I may see the wisdom of Bastet.  
Lion goddess, Fury of the sun, Destroyer of Rê’s enemies…”

Murphy finally halted at the end of his climb up the grassy slope, nervously looking around in search of a fiery red fur or alert green eyes, but with surprisingly no success. He felt slightly ashamed for dropping out of the report thing at the last minute but his gut had warned him rightfully so against an incoming threat. 

While he caught up his breath, still shaken from his run from the indoor market district, he could easily spot Josef moving around across the crowd of cats. They chanted or hummed in hypnotizing rapture, like a haunting echo to the compelling words Murphy could even hear from the streets below the tree groves and shrubs. 

Under the light of the full moon, the patriarch’s grey silhouette had acquired a wraith like quality, his yellow eyes shone sinisterly, untimely causing a childhood myth to come back to the orange cat’s mind. 

Ra, faced with the insurrection of men, sent his "divine eye": Bastet, transformed into Sekhmet, the lion warrior. From her maw came the desert winds and ravages of the sun. Once she started destroying the earth with such violence that nothing here could stop her, Ra, who did not want to obliterate all humanity, prepared a mysterious drink so Bastet would turn back to her true self. Since then, various rites of appeasement had been developed to calm the goddess and bring back peace. In some places, blurred by time in Murphy’s memory, it meant sharing the spoils of hunt or territory conquest…

“…Beloved Bastet, you, with the moon in your step, clad in the sky, covered in starlight, slay the evil that afflicts me just as you slay Set servants. With your stealth anticipate the moves of all who perpetrate cruelties against Her Children of Light. Grant me the joy of song and dance, and ever watch over me in the lonely places I must walk. As I lay down to sleep, I pray Bastet my soul to keep and transport it to the sandy lands where my ancient kin revered and were revered…”

To his intense frustration, no matter how much Murphy sniffed the air, he could not distinguish Hans' from that of so many other cats. However, what he did notice was how his lungs had gradually but surely began to burn. A strong, heady scent was overcoming his senses.

Trying to recover his full focus, he saw that Josef had moved behind a range of dark trees and his partially hidden frame was now busy digging in the ground and violently pulling at some sort of grass. Restlessness seized the crowd more strongly than before and a strange craving rose in the puzzled orange tom’s stomach. 

After a moment, his vision had become abnormally blurred but before he could ask himself about the problem's origin, he recognized a plant in Josef’s jaw, dimly shining in the darkness between the dark shadows of the oaks. Josef’s whisky voice became was overpowered by the eager meows and creepy growls of the feline audience as he emerged again from the grove. 

“…In those dire times, show me your strength, lend me your wisdom. I will walk in your steps; I will dance; I will leap; I will eat; I will drink; I will learn your crafty knowledge. We prepared a feast in your honor, we shall make a circle dance, wild and free. This will waken our own natural selves, will open the cages…” 

The grey cat didn’t walk back to the central bench but slowly moved to the right through the abounding petals of tall snapdragons and blue hydrangeas. As the others tracked his steps under the lead of a couple of overly excited old tabbies, yet while keeping a respectful distance still, Murphy heard the delicate lapping of a stream and noticed the white reverberation of moonlight on dampened stones where the patriarch was about to finish the ritual. 

He blinked and forced himself to look walk around in the crowd again in search of the familiar faces of the other investigation members, although the plant’s smell was now dizzying, he could barely think straight. 

“Oh Bastet, Queen of All Cats, I bring you offerings as symbols of my devotion. I offer food to the Great Goddess. Let the Full Moon inspire us while She walks among us, healing and revealing Herself through our actions.”

Josef dropped the greyish-green stem he was carrying into the current. The small, elongated flower clusters bumped into a few obstacles before vanishing into the darkness of night. Finally, he sat down and, locals knew, it was the signal. 

With a terrifying shriek, Ivan turned around and jumped towards the grove where the patriarch was previously foraging. He was quickly joined in the bushes by the fastest running cats. In a short time, toms and she cats alike were only eating the pretty lilac flowers of nepeta but frenziedly rubbed their cheeks against, sniffed and chewed on the crenelated leaves. Before Murphy could even realize what was happening, he found himself standing right next to Flora and Gabriele two steps or three before where the stems shot up to the dark starry sky. 

The black she cats’ pupils already eclipsed the yellow tinge of her eyes as she looked around for a comfortable spot where to get stoned. Murphy turned towards the white and brown one instead and tried to scream beyond the ambient snarls and yowls. 

“Where's Hans? There are dogs in the city!” His voice sounded pathetically raspy and uncertain. She blinked in his direction as if she didn’t recognize him or understood what he was saying, before hissing at Ivan when the tom bumped into her. She ran off into the crowd, chasing after an imaginary mouse. 

Murphy could see other cats clumsily walk around and return for a fix of the flagrant herb’s heady scent again and again. Its aromatic oils made Marie and her elder friends frisky and playful like young kittens and, as they fell deeper under influence, their mood changed in even odder ways. 

He could no longer hold out. The tom lay down on his side in a small batch of leaves, before violently tossing and turning on his other side, unable to get comfortable for long. He frenetically rubbed his cheeks on the grassy ground or protruding rocks underneath as ecstasy was progressively taking hold and his senses were overcome. 

He felt light and well like he had not for a long time, the ache in stomach and muscles completely forgotten. Even the sound of angry cats could not disturb him anymore. He watched the colors of the sky change to bright blue and purple colours that cascaded down between the tree branches and the stars shine almost violently like car headlights. 

The shapes of the now swam around like a hazy cloud, full of so many shades it was hard to remember who was who. Had the moon light always been so coppery red? A vivid memory of breathtakingly beautiful fur seized his mind and he tried to stand up again, mildly freaked out. In vain. His head was spinning, he could barely catch his breath and he could not initiate a step without stumbling like a fool. So he prayed that those large, intelligent green eyes would not find him in this shameful moment of weakness.

Murphy waited patiently for the intoxication to wear off but the ghost sensation of this unbelievably soft little body cuddled up against his wouldn't go away. How cute Hans had looked in his belly up position, with his legs pointing at weird angles, head twisted to the side at a weird angle. Was there even something more appealing that the way his green irises had closed in slow languid blinks last evening, with a gleam that painfully looked like affection? 

He startled when he heard another cat nearby shout something indistinct and froze when he realized in horror that the warm tingling in his stomach had morphed in a dull but enduring pain between his hind legs. He strongly pulled at the grass with his claws in frustration and tried to think of anything else, to remember what he was supposed to do here. The feeling would simply not go away. 

He stood in resignation and half crouched before grinding repeatedly and forcefully against the ground. The faster he got rid of that, the less likely he would be found in an awkward state of arousal by someone he knew. At first, he tried to remember what the tabby pelt of his last girlfriend had looked like, but very quickly the vision of how slim yet robust Hans had looked when he wrestled with Lukas flooded his mind. 

Murphy thought it was weird. Not so much the fact that he was attracted to another tom. One time things happened during rut season whenever there were no she cats in heat around. No, it was just that it was unlike the orange tom to be obsessed. Yet, when it was not the soft drag of red hair against his nose and tongue he was thinking about, it was the chirp like noises of Hans' greetings, the soft chattering of his conversations or his inquisitive mewing. 

Now Murphy wondered what the younger tom would sound like if he held him by the back of the neck and pressed his chest down, rear quarters raised. Would he softly sigh and hiss or would he growl and yowl in delight? Ridiculous thoughts, he knew. Why would Hans agree to that?

He didn’t notice how much time had passed before he climaxed and fell asleep in the nepeta thickets. When he emerged to relative consciousness again, early dawn filtered through the tree tops. He felt cold, and the sky, the bushes, even the light into the half awake cats’ eyes glowed red like blood. 

Fear seized the orange tom's heaving chest again and finally propelled him on his paws properly. He stumbled, queasy and put off by the sticky cold sensation of saliva on his chin and come on his belly. He sat a small moment to clean himself and let the shivers subside, trying to ignore how unbearably loud the meows of the others sounded again. 

When he got up, feeling steady enough to walk, and tried to get away from the group, he felt suddenly gnawed at by the thought that he was forgetting something important and was almost shocked when he picked Anton's scent beyond the mind-bedding plant’s. He inhaled sharply. Now he remembered! The dogs in the city! He had to warn the patriarch!

Murphy reached the end of the trail at the riverbank and looked in curiosity at the waters which had carried the nepeta away some hours ago. He closed his eyes and waited a moment for the fresh brush of wind to clear his misty mind. 

His rest was interrupted by a low rustle on his left and through the tall wet grass he saw Anton’s blonde fur. The old cat’s head was clumsily leant over the shallow waters for a drink, his eyes were glassy and he periodically cleared his throat. Murphy was about to call him but his voice got stuck in his throat when he spotted a subtle movement behind the other tom. 

He only had the time to recognize red fur before the assailant grabbed and yanked the patriarch’s tail with such force that he was thrown off balance. Anton slipped on the pebbles and let out a half cry of surprise, almost immediately choked in water as his face was forcefully pushed down into the current.


	20. Chapter 20

Kind Friedrich was what everyone in the colony and beyond called an accomplished patriarch. His dominion extended from the salt marshes which protected the Southern coastline to far upstream into the shallow meadows of several rivers. The scars that covered his face and shoulders were testament of years of the ruthless and almost constant strife he had to carry on to keep such an extended surface of territory. Most of his direct neighbors in the meadows, the coastal pine woods or human settlements were his offspring, and Hans was only the thirteenth son of his latest conquests. 

It took considerable energy from the dark ginger to hold Anton’s shoulders and head down for so long, but seeing how very close he was to finish the befuddled cat off was making him hold on in determination. The splashing movements of the old leader were getting weaker, more sporadic. 

In his absorption, the young tom failed to detect a noise among the long shadows of the shrubs, until the air was suddenly knocked out of his lungs by a strong push and he was toppled in the shoreline's grass. When he managed to straighten back on his paws, his head was spinning, the semi long fur’s color of a towering cat was barely distinguishable with the faint light of daybreak in the purplish sky. But he quickly recognized this musky combination of prey blood and forest leaves flagrance. He heard Anton cough nearby, but his mind was now too crippled by dread to pay attention to him.

When he was a kitten, Hans saw his father as an angry God. The beatings the clumsy litter mates received filled them with a terror and awe akin to religious rapture. It was a reminder of the revenge Ra reserved against his enemies. Yet as he grew older he began to see Friedrich for what he was. He believed that he could know more, do more than his Father and, in the end, one of his older brothers’ physical strength became greater than the patriarch’s. The righteous god was nothing but a dull old fool when Hans left for Arendelle, and a memory when he came back.

The first time Murphy struck him, it brought Hans back to the terror, awe and rapture he had felt as a child, faced with his Father’s displeasure, believing it was a manifestation of Sekhmet's wrath.

He was once again knocked off his feet without even having the time to outline a parry, not that it would have been helpful given the strength of his opponent. His cheek stung, the air felt sucked out of his body. The massive cat only needed one large paw to restrain him against the sludgy ground no matter how much Hans twisted and frantically pushed against it with his legs. Giving up, he rose his head to make eye contact and he felt his muscles contract painfully all over when he saw how the orange tom’s tufted ears laid menacingly backward against his head, his mother-of-pearl fangs and iron nails an eerily shine in the darkness. There was something odd, different about him and his smell, but he couldn’t ponder on that right now.

“You did it…Alois…” The snarl shook the smaller tom to his very core and his stomach constricted in a horrible realization. 

“N…No! He gasped in horror. It’s not what…Josef, Moritz and Lukas conspired together to take over the other patriarchs’ territories. Josef threatened to pin Lukas’ death on you and I. He promised not to do so if I got rid of Anton myself. Murphy, you have to…Please…” He choked when he felt the larger tom press a second paw on his flank, the weight was painful yet not as much as the emotions that the reproachful look of Murphy's too black pupil stirred. 

“You didn’t bother to tell me? I don’t believe you.” Hans gulped as he felt his heart drop. “Can hardly believe you made a fuss to get me onboard your stupid report thing. Just to use me!” He pressed a bit more strongly, making the ginger tom whimper despite himself. Murphy gestured with a whip of his tail towards Anton’s now almost conscious figure. 

“After this bloke, was it Moritz’s turn? Josef’s? Or Seamus’?” Hans didn't have the time to refute, his throat and stomach hurt and his eyes were wet with tears of something crushing that was not fear. He knew what was coming. 

“Me?” No!” His reply had been loud and immediate but Murphy was too irritated to listen properly right now. 

“You bastard!” he suddenly heard Anton croak at him from the bank. “I will make you regret this, I will tear you to pieces!” He froze in uncertainty, wondering if Murphy was going to hold him down long enough for the patriarch to go through with it. But to his surprise, he saw the larger cat break eye contact and freeze, his expression shifting back to his usual stoicism. He didn’t know if it was just his imagination but he felt the trapping weight on his body lessen. 

Driven by a reflex of survival, the dark ginger tom managed to give a strong kick, and swiftly slid out from the grasp before jumping up in the bank’s snapdragons and blue hydrangeas. 

As he quickly scurried down the park’s paths towards the city streets, trying not to stumble on other cats’ lying forms in the grass, he just couldn’t appreciate how beautiful the pastel yellow and pink clouds up above had gotten, blinded by the too bright and orange sunrays piercing between the dark skyscrapers and spires of chiseled stone. 

Hans passed by Jean and Pierre, who warmly saluted him and he kept his face as blank as he could as he muttered a quick excuse to leave—a sharp contrast to his roiling insides. There was something growing in him, cold and exquisitely sharp with gnashing teeth, a vicious something that torn away at the cavity of his chest. He tried to force himself to breathe more deeply but couldn’t alleviate the unbearable tightness in his chest. He heard Anton’s bellows resonate in the trees’ foliage and sped up. Murphy was not chasing him. He knew this didn't mean the damage to their friendship was not irreparable.

Soon, car smell and whirr smothered his senses as he reached an already busy crossroad, and it took all his willpower not to break down there in sobs of exhaustion. Instead, he channeled his turmoil in a sprint. In a moment, he would be able to hide under the thick cover of darkness, somewhere quiet and far, take a moment to tear off the damned thing that gnawed at his heart, to once more become a demon beyond love and hate. Or so he hoped.


	21. Chapter 21

What a perfect night for confessions of love it had been. 

Although, with how long it had been, the details had become blurred like that of a dream, he could remember the thousands of fireflies swiftly move in and out of the rushes, or gliding high above the dark waters of the lake, their brightness almost eclipsing that of the stars in the clear sky.

The two lovebirds had clearly seemed to be paying more attention to the color of each other’s eyes than to the beauty of the kingdom’s landscape, until Seamus and Murphy had stepped out of the shadows of the forest trees, that is. 

After a moment of disbelief and hesitation, the brown tabby had left his ladylove’s side and stepped through the shore shrubs in their direction, the royal Chatoyance gem securely held in his jaws. Despite how satisfying it was to see dread in his pupils, Murphy felt terribly aggravated by the fact that the traitor really seemed to think that he could be forgiven so easily. 

Almost as annoyed as he’d been about not being allowed to kill him once the two brothers had managed with considerable difficulty to choke him to unconsciousness. It had also been embarrassing indeed to see him again during their first and only incarceration in a human facility. In the end, he still didn’t know exactly how the old black shecat watching over the supernatural golden princess had managed to subdue both of the ginger toms before their capture. Probably magic inspired by demon Set himself.

Murphy sighed and got back to the task of wrenching the alfalfa’s leaves off their stems. He wouldn’t be able to enjoy decent weather for too long. Green Hill's morning sky was once again steely dark with icy cold winds driving south some impressive clouds. 

After securing a firm grip on his finalized package, he tried not to step in any puddle from yesterday’s downpour as he made his way back to the pond through the short grass of the park lawns. Unfortunately, not any bird would disturb his foolish thoughts. 

And foolish it was to remember any of this. Flynn and the twins had been long term associates, had roamed the fox infested forests of the land and ransacked multiple human settlement together, making the tabby’s dirty trick the most distasteful. Even today, only the thought of the foul vermin was enough to make Murphy see red with a knee-jerk urge to claw at something. 

Hans and Murphy had met each other less than a moon phase ago, and what they ever did was informally share some half info half guesses to satisfy their mutual curiosity about the demise of a few stray cats none of them were close to. Two days had passed since the hill's gathering and with a clear state of mind, the orange tom could not help but roll his eye at how ridiculously emotional he had been then. 

When the grey colors of the pond became visible behind a row of elm trees, he decided to take a break before heading back to the hideout, but decided not to perch on the fence in order to be able to properly clean his paws and shoulders. Hopefully, Seamus would be back for nap time before the alfalfa could dry up, despite how absorbed he was in exploring and claiming his new territory. Murphy had to admit: his brother might be as annoying as a blackbird and prone to ridiculous and childish outburst, but he was a skilled opportunist. 

While Murphy and the others were busy getting high in Green Hill’s park despite the signs of a looming dog invasion, Seamus had swiftly moved east in old Alois’ popular district before anyone else decided to. Moritz had to be terrifically spiteful right now.

Murphy winced as the thought of the white cat reawakened sensation in his injured shoulder. The fawn one had been one-eyed long enough to learn how to efficiently use his hearing and olfaction when dealing with most opponents, but animals that matched his strength and combat skill could still put him in a predicament, as evidenced by the fact that the majority of his scars spread across his left side.

He breathed out in tiredness but it didn’t ease the enduring, dull pain in his chest. He flicked his whiskers as he brought his paw down and turned his head to look in the direction of the neutral zone around the local indoor market. He recalled last new moon’s events, Hans’ grim tales of cleansing by the omnipotent hand of man and animal deserted towns. He doubted that what the ginger tom did to Anton was right. But there still was a possibility that what he’d said about Josef and the other two was truthful. Infamous rumors on the oldest patriarch’s past had been circulating for a while among the least religious folks, and it remained unlikely that Hans was able to kill so many cats without knowing the exact layout of their territories properly anyway. Still it didn’t mean that he didn’t intend to get rid of his former allies should they turn to be obstacles.

If he had been in a right state of mind, Murphy would have conducted a proper interrogation with the youngest cat. But when he had restrained him on the bank of Green Hill’s river and that the round pretty face had looked up into his with fear and pleading consuming its features, the shameful and wonderful daydreams of Murphy’s inebriated night had come back to mind with vividness and he had felt irrationally angry. 

There was nothing between them, yet Murphy couldn’t stand that he had been kept in the dark about what Hans had been planning during that warm evening when they had cleaned each other’s wounds and tender green eyes had seemed full of promises for their future. 

He gulped to ease the sudden tightening of his throat and looked up at the sinister bare branches of the trees above as they roughly shivered under wind’s coercion, like threatening claws of a giant beast. Perhaps those of a bear in a forest, or perhaps those of a chimeric God of disorder. 

Maybe it was because of those soft irises that Murphy didn’t find the gut to keep the murderer in his grip when Anton had threatened to tear him apart, as the patriarch’s had the right to. It would have been beneficial for Murphy, and for Seamus, if he had immediately brought Hans to be submitted to the judgement of the community. He shouldn’t have been distraught by the perspective of him being immediately executed or formally banished then, because the little guy was unlikely to be welcomed anywhere right now anyway. Anton made sure of it. 

Sure Pierre, Gabriele and a few others from the investigation team didn’t yet believe the terrible news Moritz and other older cats had been circulating around yet. After all, they had fervently looked up to this handsome and well-spoken stranger. But they didn’t have much weight in the community’s decisions anymore and unlikely enough food to share with an outlaw.

So why was Hans still here? His presence betrayed by a sweet and recent whiff of him at the border of Murphy’s territory. Whether he had really killed Alois and the four others or not, the sensitive thing to do for him would have been to move somewhere else. News rarely circulated between cities after all.

Where was he now? Murphy immediately tried to shake off this question. Nothing good would come out of curiosity now. 

Was he unharmed? Lisa and Gabriele had paid a visit to the park yesterday and enquired about his whereabouts. Although Seamus’ blatant attempt at flirting with Gabriele made the conversation awkward and disjointed, the twins had the opportunity to learn about Jean’s accident.

The tabby made it alive from his confrontation with a stray dog, but in severe condition. He now rested at Pierre’s and served as the warning that Murphy didn’t successfully deliver during full moon. It was in one of those rare times that Murphy was thankful for the humans’ presence: those generally didn’t tolerate the formation of full canine packs in their city centers so the beasts probably attacked alone or in smaller groups now.

To his annoyance, this thought didn’t calm the orange tom down. Actually, Murphy felt something terribly cold crawl under his skin as he thought of the simple possibility that Hans’ body might currently be mangled to indistinguishable meat lumps, like Dimitri’s had been, that he would never be able to hear the red cat’s soothing meows ever again. 

Hans was certainly fast and resourceful but would he be resilient enough to support himself while avoiding detection and harm by cats and dogs alike? Even if he hid in one of the few tiny neutral zones, there was no guarantee that Moritz or Anton would not come to hunt him down there. 

The orange tom’s muscles clenched in unpleasant surprise when he felt the first drops of water against his back and he quickly got up to vigorously ruffle his fur. What was taking Seamus so damn long? The guy had harassed him all week, suspicious and eager to know why Murphy was spending most of his days and nights out of his turf on hostile human roads. 

The two eyed cat’s had very loudly expressed his contentment when his twin had recounted how Hans tried to murder Anton and was now wanted across the town. It goes without saying that Murphy didn’t disclose the scandalous fondness and furious turmoil that he was now enduring at almost every moment whenever he thought about the stranger.

Yet now that Murphy would not be going out of the park anytime soon, it seemed like Seamus didn’t care about anything else but Alois’ district. Sure it needed warning markings but this task didn’t require the entirety of a cat’s schedule, even for a territory of this size. Murphy, like any cat, didn’t mind prolonged solitude and the fact that the twins had decided to have a territory each made this evident. Yet, he couldn’t help but think that Seamus was avoiding the small period of time they usually spent together on purpose, like he was playing a vengeful sibling trick. How petty and irritating. 

Abandoning his herbs, the big cat quickly jogged through the already humid grass when he felt the shower gain in intensity. It’s only after a run around the pond and crawling under a sufficiently dense thicket that he acknowledged what would really calm his anguish. As he thoroughly cleaned the damp, darkened fur of his back and felt the warmth return, he tried to think of where to start his searches. He had to make sure Hans left Green Hill before it was too late.


	22. Chapter 22

A human city was a universe filled with violence. But, with closer inspection and experience, came the strange realization that it was also full of opportunities. 

This opinion seemed shocking to the rare cats he confided in about the matter but nevertheless, especially when compared to the degraded countryside, subjected to the replacement of the forests with seemingly ever spreading monotonous fields of dry human plants reeking of poisonous fumes, sometimes more animal species could be found inside the city than outside. 

This was, or so Hans believed, due to the diversity of the accommodations available, namely a diversity of semi-natural constructions and spaces. Animals and plants could count on all kinds of corners, ledges, cracks in the walls, more or less maintained and more or less exotic gardens, wasteland, cemeteries and gutters.

After this radical transformation of course, only the few hyperadaptable specimens remained: a handful of plants; bland looking animals, with a very varied diet and abundant offspring; or the least fearful species, that could face any new environment and possessing an appetite for novelty and a large register of behaviors towards humans.

Fish or mice, capable of living in the midst of the worst pollutants. Birds that no longer startle at the sight of humans or cars, and manage to communicate in the midst of the din. Plants capable of reproducing in the middle of an ocean of bitumen… Dogs or cats, of course which, as far as he knew, have been brought to all lands and all climates by human hand, and could prove just as harmful to the local animals as the bipeds.

The verticality of the buildings pleased cliff birds, which is what pigeons were originally, and offered a large choice for nesting. 

There was a peculiar one, however, thriving above the dark orange roofs, which found its food, not on the ground, but in the air. One that owed such a its success to its formidable speed.

A curved yellow beak ended with a curved tip, sharp enough to sever a spinal cord. Round jet-black eyes could acutely discern movement from a distance greater than the most skillful cat could conceive. Cruel talons, shining under the pale sun rays filtering through the autumnal clouds, were among the assets that the volatile used to hunt other birds. 

Given its dark brown feathered plumage, with only a dirt-white ruffle with thin clean bands of black as a stalk of eccentricity, Hans almost didn’t spot it, perched above one of the old chiseled stone façades of the harbor. A tall building like that one was an ideal lookout for a hunter. 

The red tom let a strange escape him, half sigh half sob. He had expected to find sources of nostalgy here, in Green Hill’s harbor, but this one was truly unsettling. The peregrine falcon was one of the most unique features of the coastal Southern marshes, the territory of his brother Osvald to be more specific. 

From the mist of fuzzy memories emerged spectacularly blinding white cliffs, eroded by whistling and crushing waves, but proud lair of a few volatile families. His most daring cousins would leave the marram grass and tamarisk bushes of the sandy dunes to venture between the large boulders and defy the humid and traitorous surf of the waves to catch crabs and minuscule fishes.

He could not help but stop its patrol among the dock’s ropes and wait in the shadow of a small vessel for the dangerous bird to start its navigation among the capricious gusts that dived between the buildings. 

Flying prey can move in any direction it chooses, so one had to be both fast and agile, if it was to get a meal. Thankfully, a peregrine’s wing had a shape very different from that of a seagull or pigeon. They were pointed, swept back to reduce air turbulence. 

Hans noticed that a sparse cloud had obscured the sky, but it moved and circled in unnaturally changing directions above and between the few skyscrapers’ tops. A swarm of starlings. They too were fast flyers, small in size and agile in manoeuver. A peregrine had to be even faster and to gain speed and surprise it had to attack from above. 

First, the bird of prey angled almost perfectly upward and then climbed and climbed on a slow but steady course. When the bird reached its highest altitude, only a small, inconspicuous shape of black could be discerned. 

After a while of breathtaking suspense, when a few of the unsuspecting preys cruised in the exposure of the harbor docks, Hans finally saw the peregrine turn, dive, and accelerate by beating its wings. 

Then, it pulled its wings back toward the body, to achieve a superb streamlined shape and in a heartbeat, it was over.

Like a dark shooting star, the falcon had sliced down through the air, opened its wings, and lunged with his claws large open. The starling was dead by the sheer force of the impact and quickly brought down behind a depot. The smell of a group of familiar cats streamed in through the salty wind. “Sir, I talked to Marie as you asked. There isn’t any distributor on her turf anymore.”

It was not the sound of the voice which made the red cat shudder, but the fact that it brought him back to consciousness, to the presence of his own person, so different from the easily mesmerized kitten who tried to call the cliff hawks with his brothers, looking forward to a spectacular dive towards the white sands of the beach. 

Brownie had spoken and Hans was alone again, stiffened, shrunk to a single emaciated substance, as if unwittingly attached to his wet fur. And forced to have a purpose, to act to justify its existence. 

Hans turned around towards the closest street and stared at the tuxedo step out into the pale sun light and quickly walk across worn concrete with a fretfulness in the movements that was probably not only caused by the presence of humans in the vicinity.

Jean had been injured two days ago. In the glossy yellow irises, Hans could perceive the same conflict of distrust and need for guidance that he had given this morning when hey had met at the construction site. But if Brownie suspected Hans had been behind Alois’ doom, he still preferred to put his trust in the words of another ex-domestic. He knew that if Josef’s influence had been powerful enough, he would have been gotten rid of Green Hill.

“Very well. I knew I could trust your sense of intuition and your diplomatic skills. I am certain your community will one day realize how much devotion you showed time after time”. Hans said with a calm and poise that didn’t match the appearance of lack fo sleep and proper nourishment.

Yes, there was no reason to feel melancholy. He saw it in the embarrassed yet naively thankful expression of Brownie, rendered psychologically vulnerable by seasons of bullying that the conditions of his birth subjected him to. The red tom was once again certain of his looks, the vigor of his youth and the dominion his words gave him on the weakest minds.

But the orientation of the other’s ears and whiskers changed once again as the other visitors revealed their presence. Brownie looked insecure, ashamed. His lack of stealth had betrayed Hans’ location, making the latter’s past three days effort to illegally hunt on Lukas’ unguarded territory vain. 

Lisa emerged from a street on the dock, slid in the shade of a depot with a tense and cautious yet surprisingly graceful gait. Her calico fur seemed barely disheveled by the sea winds. Behind her, brown and white Gabriele, the first member of the escort, stretched her head and whiskers in his direction with curiosity. Pierre’s smell, however, was spiked with a bitter distress and temper that he could barely contain in posture when the investigator stepped out from the hideaway of the stacked ropes.

The shecat stopped near a crate, hidden away from potentially malicious human eyes, but within earshot of Brownie and Hans. She sat down with an offset body orientation and looked hesitantly towards the swell of the harbor waters, but her ears were persistently directed towards them and the tip of her tail was restless. 

After her pale eyes met Hans', her jaws opened and closed hesitantly before she mustered courage. 

“Lukas is dead. But you already know. You were there, you.... Our elders told me... What do you have to say for yourself?” Her meow was toneless and barely audible. A few steps behind, Pierre’s brown tabby fur was bristling and he stood on stiff legs.

Lisa didn’t love Lukas, Hans thought. Her weakness had pushed her towards the false comfort of an affair instead of freeing her from an abusive relationship. But perhaps her loyalty to her community or a desperate thirst for a semblance of personal dignity gave her the strength to confront a cat who had mindlessly led Dimitri between the teeth of a dog, almost drowned Anton during one of the most sacred Bastet rituals and possibly killed Alois and Anastasiya. 

Did she picture him severing the neck of Jonas, her lover, in the impunity of a dark fetid corner of her mate’s turf?

Hans willed the reeling sensation out of his head and crouched down with his tail tucked against his flank in a non-threatening posture. He half closed his eyelids to compose a face as kind and respectful as possible, with only a touch of indignation, before he started speaking.

"Madam. On the eve of the appeasement ritual, your companion left his territory without leaving information behind and you asked me to assist you in the research. Shortly after we left, I learned from a fellow investigator that Moritz was visiting Anton that same day. Suspicious, I proceeded to Green Hill station where I encountered the two cats. As I hastily accused them of Alois’s murder, we engaged into a violent brawl. In our outburst, we did not look out for the railway traffic. Lukas accidentally fell on the track and he was run over".

Hans then paused for a bit, to judge the effect he was having on his interlocutor. Lisa's pupils were enlarged with concentration and inner debate but she didn't seem to want to react to his words yet. He stifled a yawn and continued with even more artificial gentleness.

"I subsequently concealed the death of your companion from you. It was a terrible and silly decision on my part, and motivated solely by the desire that the investigation report not be marred by an accusation against Murphy, who was with me that day in the field, as well as myself. I am sorry for the misfortune that strikes you and I offer my sincere apologies for this misunderstanding".

Lisa's gaze shifted slightly in the direction of the colourful shutters of the harbour dwellings to hide her confusion. "You don't have to forgive me in any way, he finished with a slightly harsher tone, but I cannot honourably allow myself to be charged with a murder I did not commit. As a foreigner, it was not in my best interests, nor in my ability to murder Lukas and Alois".

A particularly strong gust of wind from the cold sea ruffled the furs of the group and Pierre licked his shoulder irritably before getting up. Hans's heart clenched at the memory of Murphy's injury and the feel of the hard muscles of his neck against his tongue.

“However, I must admit my failure in this investigation. Jonas' murderer is still roaming freely I'm afraid".

The calico cat clenched her jaw and her pupils focused on Hans, narrowed, like two wooden shards, at the mention of her former lover's name.

"What about Anton?" Pierre intervened suddenly. Gabriele stopped keeping watch over the harbour workers for a moment to hear Hans' response while Brownie opened wide, frightened eyes which quickly glanced at a cat then another.

"He said you tried to kill him, for Bastet’s sake! Why would he lie about that? Pierre carried on with a hiss and narrowed eyes.

It was Hans' turn to grit his teeth, but he struggled not to let emotion appear on his face. This conceited gray bigot that was Joseph had duped him well and his anger at the idea was almost unbearable. He exhaled and inhaled lightly for a few heartbeats in order to remain cool-headed and he gathered his thoughts. Then he pricked up his ears and looked Pierre in the eye with faked hurt and resolve.

"As I said, Hans replied with a cold voice, I failed in the mission the Patriarch gave me. He just understood this before everyone else and now wishes to punish me for wasting the community's time."

Brownie let out a gasp, Gabriele turned pensively to the street where a big group of humans loudly barked at each other, and Lisa's face was lit with surprise. Pierre's tail and ears still twitched with hesitation and suspicion. 

"I know Anton... It seems extreme of him… And after all, if the dogs didn't kill Georg and Anastasiya, who could it be but you?" the tabby blurted out.

The ginger cat stood up, straightened up, then stepped forward, only stopping his progress when Pierre took a step back, intimidated and ready to throw a paw hit. Brownie and Lisa held their breaths, under sway. Despite his confidant stance, hesitation and cold apprehension gnawed his insides. He thought of Moritz's sharp teeth and claws and preferred not to think about what would happen if he accused the white cat publicly.

His green eyes stared at the dust in the cracks of the harbor's floor. Pierre and Lisa were impatiently awaiting his answer. It was not yet too late to flee Green Hill.

"Hans!" 

A shock of stupor shook the ginger cat so hard that he thought his heart was going to come out of his flank. Before he even saw the intruder, he felt his scent invade his head, sweeter and more intoxicating than the nepeta flower. He glanced up at the docks behind the other three with humid eyes.

No. He couldn't leave, Hans realized with pain and certainty. He knew it. It was laughable, sheer madness.

The figure silently approached the vessel. The ginger cat's throat tightened. He did not have a choice.

He had to stay, and, to do that, he had to find the real culprit.


	23. Chapter 23

“What…Surely you take stock of the actual situation!” “Oh, if you’re referring to the investigation, I think I might be genuinely about to.”

Bastet, he had not left his territory and his brother’s obnoxious nonsense behind to be victim of Hans’ obnoxious nonsense. The fact that it took a day and a night, considerable risks across multiple territories and several icy soakings under terrible weather to find the trail of the cat’s allies didn’t alleviate the pressure in Murphy’s sinus cavities. 

“Getting killed is what you’re about to.” He gritted out and Hans turned an irritated, split gaze in his general direction but barely slowed his step across the cobbled forecourt of the colossal building of chiseled stone that overhung the old town.

“One should deem you favorable or at least indifferent to that outcome given that you firmly believe that I am about to murder you.” Hans retorted sourly. Murphy tensed and painstakingly looked around at the darkened streets of the old district. It didn’t rain anymore but the clouds were so thick and the air so damp it smothered the senses. It was neutral ground but one could not be too careful. He sighed as he recalled that bleak dawn when his hopes for a future with Hans had collapsed.

“... Made too strong guesses back then. Though, if I don’t really have reasons to think you’ll do it, I don’t have any to think you won’t.” Hans turned and trotted quickly underneath chiseled mainstays. “As I already explained: Josef blackmailed me…” Murphy snarled disdainfully but watched the smaller cat investigate the ancient walls of the building. As Hans seemingly grew irritated of being fixedly starred at, he swiftly turned around and slightly ruffled his fur. 

“If I do not run away, what will you do then?” he said and Murphy lowered his head and flattened his ears backward as they made a tense eye contact. Intimidated was not the word to describe the feeling that tied his stomach in knots and heated his face. 

The orange tom wanted to tell him that he liked him. He could blurt out these silly, dangerous words. But Hans was pretty, witty, interesting. And those qualities were not redeeming for the mysterious abyss of darkness that the attempted murder of Anton suggested. Murphy, anyone, would certainly be better off far away from that Sekhmet spawn.

“Well? I apologize but I don't want to burn myself out extracting answers from you if you're so determined to stay as terse as usual.” Hans murmured with a toneless voice and walked alongside the wall again before sliding smoothly through a small window well that the other had not noticed before. 

“Wait!” Murphy blurted out but the red cat didn’t answer and then all one could see was the pitch darkness of the cellar. After some hesitation, the larger tom pressed his head in the opening. Would this work? Damn, he didn’t have much time, he had to try. 

He felt the pain of pressure as the bulk of his shoulders went through and he wiggled his paws against the inside wall to cling on while he pushed with his hind paws as much as he could. Beyond the blood pumping in his ears, he perceived what sounded like a muffled laugh. 

This damn little… Murphy regretted his decision of trying to help Hans even more now but it was too late to give up without losing face. Fortunately, as long as a cat’s head goes, anything goes. Thank Bastet for the lack of collarbone. He finally felt the pull of gravity compel him and let himself fall on a dusty floor. He wrinkled his nose at the humid stench of a deserted place. 

As his pupils dilated, he perceived a set of large oblong stones towering inside the small room. On his right, he briefly saw a small flash of light reflection. He hurried to the staircase where the smaller cat’s scent lingered and rose up to ground level. 

Suddenly, he almost bumped into the other but didn’t say anything as they blinked at a formidable room on their right, dimly lit by wide, curiously colorful windows. The ceiling was dizzyingly high in some portions of the place, or lower in others, almost secluded by decorated arches. 

But they froze when they heard the echo of human step. “Hans, what…” As if brought back to reality by Murphy's low voice, the other’s breath shortened and like a startled bird, he was fleeing up the stairs again. Murphy groaned softly as he felt his own paws hit and claw at the used stone and darkness enveloped them again. 

He realized quickly that the staircase was now circular and despite his disarray, he figured with relief that Hans would probably soon be trapped up there with no other exit than where he came from. He would have no other choice but to listen. 

To what? The lingering fear of getting caught by humans also intensified at the back of Murphy’s mind.

Finally, the air quality shifted: not much drier but colder, and soon enough he squinted his eye as blinding white light hit them and he felt a faint gust of wind. He regained his breath as he observed an empty room with cemented floor, opened on emptiness by four pointed arch windows pierced through the walls. Diagonal and horizontal wooden beams supported the ceiling where a big and mysterious metallic object hung. 

Murphy stood there in confusion but then heard an exasperated sigh and then: “Would you wait a moment?” He turned his head right and then up and saw the familiar shape of a cat with a plume like tail in backlight. 

Hans stood precariously on the window ledge. Silent again, he was not looking at Murphy. What… 

Suddenly cold and tense with a feeling that had nothing to do with the weather, the bigger tom cautiously approached the other with the fierce hope that he would not spook him.

Murphy was about to say something but the stifling stress in his chess subsided to give way to puzzlement as Hans comically craned his neck to look at the façade of the building on his left and then on the roof, with a methodical focus. 

“Shh.” Hans murmured and after a small moment of attentive quietness, the senses of both felines jumped on alert as sharp tweeting noises filtered through the whistling of the wind. 

Murphy was acutely reminded of how hungry he was himself and swiftly reached the bottom of the wall with padded paws and then pushed himself up on hind legs to get a look outside too. There were maybe three or four birds on the tiled roof if his audition was correct.

But despite how much he tilted his head he could not see much beyond Hans’ soft looking belly. He blinked and remembered he didn’t get the opportunity to groom there when they had met on Murphy’s territory before the gathering. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he softly nudged the other cat’s leg with his nose to indicate that he wanted to stand on the ledge too. It only earned him a brief glare from the round little face. 

Murphy flicked his whiskers back into place in resignation and rested his front paws on the stone. He felt it again. The strange itch, the uncomfortable tingling of desire. He breathed silently, waiting for it to go away again. Hopefully, a moment of patient silence would also smooth things with the fickle tom.

The older cat looked at the sprawl of dirty white and reddish old buildings under the grey featureless sheet of cloud. Foam speckled the steely sea and vessels travelled to distant, drier places. If the deserts of sun god Ra were real, and if Murphy decided to help Hans in any way, would he be blessed by Bastet for his selflessness, or would Murphy’s heart be devoured in the afterworld for being the accomplice of a murderer? 

The orange tom closed his eye painfully. He was not certain the ways in which he observed and fretted over Hans were normal. Everything he felt about him was twisted up like wire, edges sharp enough to draw blood. He felt the sickening attachment in his chest. A faint link, a spider web thread that he knew would lead him straight back to the other’s cold heart.

After a while, he saw from the corner of his vision that Hans had turned his head again to look at him. Alas, as the moment dragged on, Murphy could not move and words wouldn’t leave his incapable jaws. But then, against his expectations, the smaller tom broke the uncomfortable silence.

“If I catch the one who killed Jonas, Anastasiya and Georg… will you love me again?”


	24. Chapter 24

"If I catch the one who killed Jonas, Anastasiya and Georg… will you love me again?"

"… What did you say?" Softly. Far too softly. Murphy was still. He stared up at Hans, intently. 

"I saw the way you were looking at me before…" Hans whispered. It felt as if the air had become scarce despite the chilling gusts striking the building. Now, surely, Murphy would be outraged enough and leave him alone.

"How, then? How? How was I looking at you?" The fawn cat’s fur ruffled and the fear of miscalculation dawned on Hans. Murphy’s claws dug into the stone next to him as if he intended to push him from the tower with full force at any moment.

Even though his heart was beating like it wanted to burst, Hans reached down to touch the other’s forehead with his nose.

Murphy flinched and let go of the ledge to stand down, frozen in shock, speechless.

The harshness of the altitude wind reminded the younger cat of the days following his second and last departure from the Southern Marshes. Of the exhausting trek in those vast and humid lands between aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems. With wet meadows, rushes and low shrubs as far as the eye could see. Shallow pools and rivers hidden among tall reeds where the cat got lost for hours, chilled and overburdened by his damp fur. 

He was one too many mouths to feed at home and he had failed to claim his own territory on the Northern coast. Too bad for him. King Friedrich had not even bothered to drive him out himself. Instead Ludwig had half-heartedly clawed his face and then run after him among the pale sandy beach where they had played together a long time ago until Hans had crossed the river. He had this strange sadness in his eyes then, not so dissimilar to what Hans could see in Murphy’s now. 

The red tom took advantage of the other’s dismay to gingerly jump down the window and cross the distance between them, so quickly that Murphy didn’t have a chance to stop him. 

Shivering, he tucked his head against the other's shoulder. He felt light-headed, his breath could only come in short strained bursts. 

"Tell me," Hans whispered again. "Please."

Murphy was holding himself very still. Time passed. Hans nestled closer, swallowing nervously. Any moment now Murphy was going to push him away, and then the blows would fall, blows he had earned for behaving so poorly.

Murphy drew a slow, hitching breath. Wrapped his neck around Hans’ higher back, hugging him back.

This was not what the red cat was expecting to happen. Hans detested being unable to prepare ahead, unable to manage his own time, and his own position in the world. Yet the only thing in life he seemed to be good at was sticking himself in torturous limbo. Murphy was terrifyingly tall, prone to fearsome anger, capable of shredding another cat easily, but he was just there now, warm and steady. Just like last phase, on a platform of Green Hill’s train station. 

But this would not be the end of Hans’ surprise, because the other cat’s voice suddenly came back in a low, hoarse murmur.

"I don’t love you… I hate you, I feel sorry for you… Poor thing…" And despite the painful lump in his throat and unshed tears of shame that such words caused, Hans couldn’t give up, not willingly.

Murphy’s breath gently tickled his neck and Hans felt the tremor of a purr rise in his own chest. He wished for this moment to last. But then it didn’t when a deafening sound shook the entire building. 

Both cats jumped high up in panic, reaching the room’s framework, then ran in frenzied circles, almost crashing in the walls and each other, before they located the staircase again.

The bell rang nine more times and resonated from the old city to the distant shore. Hans’ head felt as if it was going to burst. As he tried not to trip and fall down the stairs he barely registered Murphy running ahead of him until they once again stood in the large nave with the stained-glass windows.

They quickly stumbled and drifted awkwardly on the slippery tiling across the room before stopping to hide behind the set of columns of a lower ceiling aisle. Hans loudly breathed in and out in exhaustion for a moment. Why would humans design such an abomination?, he thought referring to the bell while looking at the ceiling where strange human figures were depicted in pale colors for a moment. 

"If you love me, you have to leave", echoed Murphy’s voice gainst marble stone. Hans turned his head in confusion and saw that the older tom had come back to his senses, his face again serious and almost frightening in the semi-darkness of the room. 

As the words slowly became intelligible to his mind, the red tom felt his stomach drop in cold disappointment. His throat hurt. But this time dizzying anger also burned his face and electrified his fur. He painfully grind his teeth. And then, unable to understand what was happening to him, he smacked his paw across Murphy’s face without any warning.

The fawn cat only stiffened in astonishment at what probably felt like a flick to him but his irises darkened dangerously. Yet incredibly, or maybe because of how much forbearance Murphy had shown in the past few days, this was not enough to scare the smaller cat away now. In fact, it only fueled his foolhardy outrage.

After shifting to a sitting position, he quickly jumped up to incompletely bring his front paws around Murphy’s neck in a belligerent embrace and the bigger cat was finally prompted into reaction. Without a word, he used one of his big paws to unceremoniously push Hans’ chest away until he was lying on his back. Murphy then moved his large bulk over him, pressing the younger tom heftily against the floor until he could barely breathe. After a few blinks of stupefaction, Hans hissed and tried to writhe out of the hold.

But then Murphy released him on his own, and stepped to the side when Hans started to rabbit kick him with resentment.

The red cat inhaled loudly and sharply stood up, exposing his flank and side stepping away and then back. He lowered his head down a bit while looking straight at Murphy's face challengingly. The other tilted his ears and sat down, as deadpan as ever.

Hans moved at a small distance and raised a paw, a movement which was immediately mirrored. The red cat extended up on his rear legs as high as he could and swiftly brought his front paw on the other’s ear. And he was hit again, this time hard enough to cut his breath.

He fell on his side in a daze and jerked when he felt the big cat lightly press his teeth to his neck. In a sudden state of panic, Hans brought his back leg up to protect himself but only succeeded in pushing the other’s head away for a brief moment before he was squashed under that damn weight again, and then bitten on the two sides of his head in quick succession. 

The younger tom only feebly batted Murphy’s ears before stopping, recovering his breath and waiting to be let free. He tried to find Murphy’s gaze, but he could barely see anything under the mass of orange fur. However, he would be lying to himself should he pretend that he didn't like this immovable, warm pressure of the other on top of him.

Suddenly, the stinging on his cheeks ceased and Hans gasped when the sensation morphed into something smoother and humid. His puzzlement was quickly replaced with reignited anger. In other circumstance, being groomed by Murphy again, just like during that golden dusk when he was allowed in the park, would have certainly been an exquisite experience. But this distinctly felt like the scolding of a mother, or the derogatory assertion of a dominant shecat over another they shared a territory with. 

Hissing, he pushed Murphy away with front and back kicks in his face again and wriggled free as Murphy was compelled to stand up, before he quickly sunk his teeth in Hans’ head with much more honest malice this time. 

The younger tom jumped back up and tried again to take Murphy in a choke hold once more but failed to get the leverage when Murphy overtook him. Securing his paws, circling them around Hans’ torso and toppling him down, leaving the red cat in a ridiculous position, resting down on the black and white tile on his upper back only, his head stuck under the other’s chest, while he desperately kicked with his back paws in the air. 

When in annoyance Murphy extended his neck to try and nip at those nasty toes, he shifted some of his mass off, giving Hans the opportunity to grab the other’s head, and finally reciprocate with a strong bite on the cheek. Murphy, still lying on his belly, shook his head free, turning it to the side before he was pinched again. With a snarl, he let free the younger cat who rolled to the side and stood. 

Hans panted and shook with frustration on unstable limbs while Murphy licked his own shoulder, still waiting derisively for the other to recpver before they were both sitting again, each holding a paw up, ready to start another round. When Hans looked up, he froze as he suddenly recognized with surprise the faint glint of a smile in the single blue eye. He felt a new, strange feeling overcome his temper despite the seriousness of their problem.

He realized how long it had been since he had this, this parody of violence. Only a few of his siblings had indulged him in this friendly sparring when he was a kitten and many skirmishes of early adulthood had been all too real. A landing blow always split skin. It had not been just...play.

When Hans jumped up again, circling his paws around murphy’s shoulders, he felt Murphy put his own around him too and take a hold of his head with his teeth. As Hans bit on the other’s neck, they found themselves stuck in a lock and Hans had difficulty to breathe again, from both exertion and emotional stir. 

They rolled on their sides and facing each other brought down gentle blows on each other faces before immobilizing to breathe. As they looked at each other with curiosity, there was concern in Murphy’s eye and Hans hoped it was not because he noticed that Hans was about to cry again.

The darker furred cat sucked in a breath and averted his eyes in submission. Rushing to his feet clumsily, his claws gripping at the slabs. The other cat let him and sat up slowly. He opened his jaws as if he was about to say something but before he could, a hysterical burst of laughter shook Hans’ frame. He felt so sad he could just vomit.

"You can’t just…after…argh, never mind!" Hans faltered and panted in frustration before turning away and quickly making his way in the nave separating the rows of benches, guided by the light of an open door. 

"You know what?, he meowed again with a voice too shrill to mask his lack of composure. If you do not want to give me your love, I might as well stay in Green Hill for the sake of my own interest. If you cannot stop me, I do not need your approval!"

Hans heard the orange cat's claws clack behind him as well as a distant, surprised shout of a human in the room but he held his tail high in defiance before walking out in the chilling drizzle. He only stopped in his tracks once he had stepped down on the cobble stone where grey clouds and carved architecture blurredly reflected.

He dared not to turn around and see what Murphy’s expression looked like. But a strange gut feeling still seized his chest and punched out a weak sigh out of him. 

"Should you change your mind, I will be on Jean’s territory."

"Wait! It’s not what this is about!" he heard Murphy yowl above the wind. But the smaller tom quickly forced his paws to trot across the courtyard. He didn’t hear the older tom him.

Once he was back in the street, he shook his fur and breathed in an air void of the insufferable cad’s smell to calm his erratic heartbeat. It would be a while before he felt emotionally cool again though. 

As he turned left and carefully began sneaking on the sidewalk, quickly moving out of human way when needed, he almost missed the silhouettes of a group of cats in the shadow of a building on the opposite side of the street. 

He slowly stopped behind the wheel of a car and spotted Marie, Lisa, Gabriele and another she-cat he didn’t know the name of but felt like he had seen before very quietly talking with one another. 

Gabriele suddenly looked at him with a strange and pensive look, but the others only slightly changed the angle of their ears. They didn’t beckon him over so he hesitantly went on through a restaurant terrace.


	25. Chapter 25

He stepped out of the overhang’s shadow and, from his perch on the building’s stoop, looked south across the streets of Pierre’s small territory until his gaze reached a vast intersection where never ending lines of cars stopped and drove away with racket. As the sun finally reached the horizon, it brightened the underneath of the dark clusters of clouds with a bright yellow and basked the grey city facades with mild warmth. A strong but dry wind, lighter to breathe it seemed, blew away the fumes of the streets and a few promising patches of solid blue-black appeared in the sky, annunciating a clear night after four days of stifling grey shroud and sporadic rain. Hopefully, the waning gibbous moon would soon ascend to highlight the world in silver hue for the hunter eyes' benefit. Fresh smells would probably be more distinct without the earthy petrichor too.

Still, hopes like these could not calm Hans’ strained nerves. A headache born from cold humidity seemed to pound the sides of his skull, slamming itself against its sides with every heartbeat. He started to brush his head with his paws, wetted them with an almost saliva deprived tongue before frantically moving them behind his ears and over his face until it almost hurt. He cleaned his forelimbs, probably soiled by the face. Though straying feet never seemed clean. He got down to cleaning his shoulders, stomach and sides, bending his back and neck as much as they would allow in various directions. 

From head to tail, every day, no matter how dire the circumstances could be, it was the same ritual. Every square inch of hair was thoroughly cleaned, licked, untangled and dried. This daily action calmed the cat. He often licked itself when he was upset or frustrated. His brothers Felix and Otto would always do that when they had just failed to catch a prey, when they wanted to go outside but it was raining.

It didn’t seem to be enough to help him relax this time around. His anger and frustration had deflated the night after Murphy and he had split up. Once again, an overwhelming sense of abandonment descended on him. It was everywhere, as palpable as the morning fog, in every molecule of water floating around, chilling him to the bone. A wall seemed to separate him from all other living souls. It could overpower him and paralyze him until his existence would simply end without anything left behind.

And memories engulfed the red tom from time to time. He had pressed his flank against Murphy’s warm chest, felt his strong muzzle nudge his back. The feeling of his embrace was fresh and crisp; unforgettable. It made the dissonance between last moon phase and now even more stark.

The sun disappeared behind the top of the buildings, casting shadow around even as the sky still glowed in soft colors. The star of Hathor started to shine on the opposite side of the horizon, beautiful but distant. He still had to wait until the moon reached the peak of its course, until Lisa and Gabriele came back with their answer, with nothing of importance to mobilize his thoughts and protect him from an unfamiliar self-awareness.

He had been alone before, he had even felt lonely among a crowd of cats –distant family members, friends or new acquaintances on the northern coast. But with maybe the exception of some of his brothers, most cats had been means to an end for him. They could bring him food, they could bring him entertainment, they could bring him body heat or pleasure, they could bring him power, but their absence in itself was not an issue. Only after Otto’s departure from Father’s territory, back when he was just a good for nothing kitten, had he been burdened by such a heavy and pervasive gloom, for such an extended period of time. 

It started the day following the gathering on the green hill, when he realized his attempted murder against Anton had indirectly damaged Murphy’s esteem for him. Esteem, he only realized now with stupefaction, he valued in itself.

This morosity had almost been inescapable since and had only gotten worse to the point of near catatonia when he realized yesterday that he could not mend his relationship with the older cat. It pained him to realize this: he always thought of Murphy. Somehow, nothing was important enough to erase Murphy from his thoughts. 

He shurt his eyes, tightly, willing the ache in his forehead and his stomach to go away. Strong cats could bear anything to make their dreams come true. Attachment made them weak: Princess Anna of the Northern coast was a fine example of that. She brushed with death when she tried to reason and bring back her Queen sister to their colony after she had fled, even though the latter was unable to control her mental disorders or her magic, and got her own heart literally frozen in an accident. In the end, it was magic, luck, which saved them from Hans’ treacherous claws and then lifted Anna's curse. Not even their colony's congeners, who didn't even have the wit to check on the Princess body when Hans pretended that she had already died and abandoned her to her fate.

But how many could really count on Bastet’s good graces? The red tom had met many pious shecats across his brother’s lands, his mother had been meek and kind just as her mate wanted, his grandmother even adopted orphan kittens to care for alongside Hans’ aunts and uncles. And what did such extreme, altruistic generosity bring them but lack of respect and misery? Even their strongest admirors kept to themselves, didn't do anything to rescue them when they were physically abused, starving or emotionally depressed.

Hans thought of Lisa and Lukas then, he breathed deeply through his nose to clear his mind. If he kept the flame of love burning, soon he would not find it within themselves to work towards a bigger objective anymore. He knew the best solution to his predicament would be time and oblivion, but that would require leaving Green Hill forever, and never see Murphy ever again. Besides, he could see a glimpse of opportunity in the completion of the investigation…unless he was already completely delusional and making up excuses to stay…

He stepped down on the sidewalk looked around at the coarse concrete surface, mindful of human activity and froze when he saw a faint movement in the darkness of the gutter. He crouched and slowly moved a paw after another until he was almost above the hole. 

His excitement died down when he noticed it was just a leaf. He shuddered as a bout of nausea flooded his senses. He was so fucking hungry again. Yesterday evening’s sparrow seemed so far away. He was aware that prey was scarcer in winter generally but even so he had the feeling that there used to be more of birds in urban areas. Did humans almost kill them all? He raised his head up. The moon was a pale shard of light sneaking low between the buildings. It was soon time for the meeting, he should be on his way.

Lurking in the shadows of a row of irregularly sized buildings of white concrete, blinking because of too intense light from human shops, he crossed path with a woman closing her iron curtain with a clatter over a room full of giant colorful leaves stacked on several levels of shelves. Across the street, in a corner of the wall, three men were seated for a noisy palaver sprayed with cans of foul-smelling liquid. In front of the bus stop, a woman with short gray hair was sitting on the ground and called out some passengers. 

He went down further into the street, jumped onto the trunk of a plane tree. Breathing heavily, he hoisted himself up on a branch high enough to jump carefully on the wall of a closed garden. After trotting across a short cut green lawn, he crossed a gate, then found himself in a dimly lit alley. 

Continuing on his way, he passed the corner of a building where small domes of canvas quivered, seemingly fragile in the cold winds of autumn. He sped up when he was almost walked over by several darkly dressed individuals, caught up as they were in the regulated, absorbed, grim hurry that characterized most of the city dwellers. 

Turning onto an avenue, he glimpsed the black waters of the river, spangled with pale light reflection spots. On a corner of the bridge, two young men hung a cylindrical metal box hung by a string at the end of a stick. Hans slowly approached them with curiosity. The rod and wire reminded him of the fishermen on the Southern Swamps' coast, as well as the fish his brothers stole from them every now and then. The box swayed gently, he was very tempted to try and tap it to see if he could knock it down as easily as a small bird. But he was quickly chased away by the bipeds with a nasty foot kick. 

He ran to the other side, stumbled across a square covered in puddles of dirty water. Stopping, he shook his fur and breathed sharply. On the other side, before another bus stop, a window well gave off a pleasant cloud of heat. As the cat approached to dry off, he saw a man lying on the railing, without cover or shelter, a stone's throw from the din and exhaust pipes. The tom approached quietly, tilted his head in perplexity. Further down the street, in front of a small park, he saw others like that at the entrance of a receding building. This corner seemed more welcoming but still insufficiently hidden or narrow in a cat’s opinion. Did humans destroy forests and grow their cities to house those of them who had nowhere to sleep, he wondered.

His interest was aroused again by the smell of rotten meat and a filthy human inspecting the content a trash can. He quickened his pace south though, he had already lost enough time and could not wait for the biped to find sustenance. 

He crossed a more active neighborhood, with illuminated windows and streets crowded with passers-by and cars, framed with colorful roofs and shutters. Finally, through the confusion of appalling noises and artificial lights, he saw the boulevard bridge under which the meeting would take place. He walked slowly, admiring the mysterious blots on the moon, now high above the rooftops in the obscure expanses of night. Underneath the bridge, he found an assembly of mattresses, saggy sofas, a motley set of plastic bags, beautiful cardboard boxes and other various objects that could make great hiding places for felines.

Hans trampled a pile of plastic bags for fun, they emitted satisfying crunches. He then sniffed around for a while, and when he found no trace of predators, he jumped in a comfortable box, squeezing his muscles together in a ball, wrapping his tail around himself as tightly as he could for warmth while he waited for the other cats or at least for the pounding in his head to go away. 

He looked up. A few dots shone faintly through the neon light of the city. The red tom laid down his chin on his paws. Stars moved, Otto had told him once. But the sky turned like a wheel and the stars turned with it. They just spinned in circles, above the earth, over and over. They always ended up back where they started. They never really went anywhere. 

The wind was blowing more softly across the arteries now. A more peaceful atmosphere, only briefly interrupted now and then, fell on the street as humans got fewer. After a while, the stars seemed to just shine brighter. With wonder, Hans saw wisps of purple and white nebula curl to form a big diagonal stripe across the night sky. Puzzled, he felt something coarse against his belly. 

As he stood up, it seemed like the ground was more brittle, shifting underneath his paws. Looking around he was surrounded by tall dunes of sand. Yet the deep orange color, the fascinating fineness of the grains and the complete absence of vegetation disproved that he was back on the Southern coast. 

Hans made a few cautious steps, stumbling on irregular terrain, anxious at the lack of noise or sound save for the pounding of his own heartbeat and whistles of wind. He stopped when he saw something protruding on the horizon. Here and there, cyclopean blocks appeared and disappeared at the whim of gusts. They seemed cut at few, sharp angles, therefore by man hand. The red cat stepped up his pace, approaching the largest rock formation, hardly distinctive with only some of its faces lit in silver by moonlight and the rest cast in pitch black.

However, he soon could guess that it had to be man-made too, despite its almost mountainously huge size. Its square base supported gently inclined walls that elevated far up to join in a dark peak against the light purple sky. As he contemplated the strange ruins, probably abandoned because of desertification, wondered about their purpose in past human life, he almost missed an incongruous sound in the seclusion of the place. 

The tom froze in his tracks, crouched to stabilize his stance, his muscles taunt in fear and paws ready to flee in the protection of the closest block at any hostile signal. After holding it for a while, he tried to quiet his breath as much as he could. Unable to detect any familiar smell, he looked around between the surrounding rocks, only moving forward slowly at irregular intervals.

The sound progressively grew louder. A buzz which morphed into something like a murmur, but of which he couldn’t recognize the words. As he moved closer, defying his own instinctual dread, it seemed like the source of the sound was doing the same. Now, to the red tom’s astonishment, it really seemed like cat speech, but he still couldn’t figure out what they said, or what emotion was conveyed. 

And then before he could decide what route across the ruins to follow, She appeared. 

From a corner of the building, although it was impossible for Hans to tell where its exit was. She walked slowly, regally, so silent despite being as tall as some adult humans. Her fur was short, sleek, blacker than the night. Around her neck, she carried a heavy looking necklace of gold and azure blue stones that some humans would also wear. It shone eerily, enlightening the surrounding rock and sand despite the feeble natural light. Attached to it was a strange iron pendant representing an insect, a beetle maybe. 

The mystical feline walked through the ruins, serene, still talking with a subdued voice to no one in particular, not giving away any indication about the purpose of her presence here. Figuring she probably hadn’t noticed him, Hans sneaked slowly in a recess behind a small dune. After taking a deep breath, he raised the top of his head above the crest and took a peek. The creature moved behind a crumbled wall for a moment and then reappeared again, but barely visible in the shadows beyond a simple movement. 

The whispers could still be heard, but they grew quieter and quieter after only a short moment. Hans figured she went further away in the ruins now, or disappeared in the desert. Holding his breath, he held his head a little bit higher above his hideout and listened with intense focus. But he could not hear anything anymore beside the howling of the wind above the dunes.

His muscles relaxed and he breathed out in relief. He climbed out and looked around at the remnant of human civilization once, at the way the moon rays pooled here and there on the sand. And then he noticed something odd with the light and his chest heaved with a pathetic gasp.

Like two car lights, bright golden irises stared at him from afar from the shadows, piercing his very being. 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. The goddess remained strangely immobile, and Hans could not bring himself to move, he was completely paralyzed by panic.

Suddenly the murmur returned. It didn’t seem to come from any origin in particular this time, it rose and resounded from all sides, from the ruins, from the desert, from everywhere and nowhere. It grew loud and threatening and his fur bristled when he finally started to recognize words.

“Stranger, danger, usurper of Osiris’ throne…what sinister scheming has the lord of the red land gotten started this time?” 

This voice was composed, almost toneless and subdued, yet it also sounded like several cats spoke and whispered and screamt from a same mouth. Some of them he had the inkling he knew but couldn’t pinpoint the origin. Confused, his mind blanked. He felt his breath flutter helplessly in his lungs for a while, but all of a sudden, without any idea why it seemed natural to him, almost as if another spoke in his place, he gave an answer.

"Only heroes and monsters become immortal. While I live, I want to shine. I want to prove that I exist. If I could do something really important, fulfill a purpose that would carry on into the future. If I were to die, what I will have accomplished would go on. That would mean I am truly living. There is no price high enough for that, for one who truly wants something and who wants to be himself." 

He shifted his paws, trying not trip on the bumps and holes. His mind raced, fighting to figure out what had just come over him. 

The wide pupils stared at him inexpressively. He was still under shock when came the fatal question.

“And what do you want?”


	26. Chapter 26

Yesterday’s fighting had left Murphy’s head dizzy with emotional whiplash and the unfamiliar aftertaste of fear. 

Not for his life. Hans was not a worthy opponent. Despite Murphy's shoulder injury and Hans’ wildcat stamina, he didn't have half the strength to defeat the larger cat in melee. In fact, what scared the ginger cat was that despite how hard he had been trying to remain calm and composed around him, in the end, Hans had seen straight through him. And right from the very beginning it seemed, even if Hans hadn’t been aware what it was that he was witnessing.

The fact that the darker cat dared to lift its paw on him without hesitation, to express simple annoyance, was stark proof that Hans was not afraid of him. And this recklessness could only be due to the fact that he knew Murphy couldn't hurt him.

When Hans kissed him under the steeple window, he knew he could make him lose his damn mind.

Hans had indirectly confessed feelings of affection for his senior, but Murphy was unable to sense lie or honesty in the alert eyes. The possibility that Hans was using him and his feelings suddenly felt very real.

He made the right decision yesterday, he tried to convince himself as he waited in ambush at the edge of the park pond while Seamus was circling it quietly to reach the other side. Murphy’s turmoil must have been really visible because his brother had almost fondly suggested that they go hunting together, which they hadn’t done in a while. 

The ginger tried to keep its reflection away as he looked at the green and murky waters. The fishes were impressive in size, white or black with bright orange spots. They swiftly wagged their tail and swam around in zig zags, sometimes stopped to open and close their mouths to eat something on the smooth surface. They looked appetizing. 

Is that what his life would be summarized as from now on? Finding food? Was he missing something? He could not help but think. All their youths, the twins had traveled the dark conifer forests and many villages for the simple taste of adventure, unable to stay on the same territory for long. Get through never-ending wheat fields to find new prey whenever it got rare, snatch mysterious artefacts from human stalls, brawl with other toms just to show that they were mightier than most, terrorize pet animals for fun, serenade new girlfriends (although it had mostly been Flynn’s alley and Murphy didn’t turn down occasional boyfriends). Those were all the pleasures that fulfilled his existence and he didn’t need any other reason to live rather than try whatever came to his mind. 

But Hans was not like him. Sure they were both mean, selfish and opportunist but Hans lived for a purpose, for something big. Ambitious, he wanted to overthrow the colony’s leadership, he wanted to confront humans. He was intelligent too, with such an interesting grasp on the dynamics between the wild and urban worlds despite not having grown up in a city. 

This stirred Murphy’s curiosity, awakened him from the comfortable monotony of Green Hill ever since he had established his turf there. He wanted to know more about Hans and he wanted to own him and his strange energy, as absurd as such a concept was. 

Pent-up emotions, pent-up desires ate at him. 

The wind lightly blew through the trees’ branches and rippled the water surface. He suddenly saw a yellow carp turn and enter into his range and he quickly hooked his paw into the water to scoop the prey out. But he was out of focus and narrowly missed his aim. He shook his paw to dry it and spotted the raised head of his brother on the other side. A bit more patience and they would have another shot, Murphy thought as he saw the group of fishes retreat to the center of the basin. Eventually Seamus caught a small coypu and graciously shared it before it started to rain again. 

Later in the afternoon, settled shoulder to shoulder underneath the roof of a kiosk for a nap, Seamus managed to ask his brother what was the matter with him. 

Murphy sighed and looked sullenly in the distance at the dark city towers, slightly blurred through the water curtain.

“I think I’m in love with Hans.” He answered with a toneless meow beyond the comforting tapping of the droplets on the surrounding greenery. He distinctly felt Seamus’ muscles tense, his ears laid back, his eyes dark in ire and Murphy almost immediately regretted his sincerity. 

“You can’t be serious?! This arrogant coward?” He stood up and shook his fur before going on. To Murphy’s relief he sounded outraged but not enraged. 

“I’m sure you’re just into toms, and you think you love him because he’s trying to get in your head or something. But come on, you’re better than that!” 

Was he though? He was a thug, his own head was too fucked up to function in normal society anymore. He had beaten up the cat who previously owned the park he now lived it. He didn’t remember much of them, but given their absence at the last two colony meetings it had to be one of the victims of the human murderer, maybe Georg. Seamus’ tail curled and uncurled impatiently as he expected an answer from the other.

“Why would you even like him anyways? – I don’t know I just do!” He hissed with irritation and Seamus gave him an incredulous look before sighing and pacing around for a bit on the dirty wooden floor. Several cars honked in a faraway street. 

“And what are you going to do about it, huh? I hope you’re just going to wait until it goes away or something… - I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I just want you to promise me you’re not going to do anything to him!” There, he said it, with as much determination as he could despite the anxiety.

Seamus raised his eyes to the ceiling and its spider webs and sighed again, indecisive but then looked into his brother’s eye with seriousness.

“Fine… but listen!” he warned when he saw Murphy’s fur settle back. “Honestly, I don’t give a damn about Anton. But if that red thing ever hurts you, I will make sure he doesn’t see the light of day ever again. You must promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid! Understand?!” 

Murphy blinked with hesitation and then nodded slowly. As Seamus breathed out and retreated back to his side with visible worry on his muzzle, he licked his own back with a newfound contentment. In the end, he could still count on his sibling’s concern and support and this was more than most cats could hope for. For all these years, nothing had pulled them apart and Flynn’s betrayal had only strengthened their bond.

That’s why he felt guilty when, instead of going back to his resting hideout after their evening hunting, he headed north, to Pierre’s grounds. 

He took a detour through neutral grounds, close to Marie’s border. Thanks to a few sun rays piercing through the clouds, he was able to see her grey silhouette at the corner of a supermarket, probably eying him suspiciously. He thought he heard ask where he was going but he ignored her and increased his pace, only slowing to avoid stagnant water. 

He didn’t even know exactly what he would tell Hans yet, or if he was ready to give him a second chance at friendship. What would happen should the red cat find the killer? He doubted Anton would forgive his almost murderer and the others’ opinion was not that clear. 

Murphy waited for a line of cars to clear before quickly crossing a street. He then walked on damp fallen leaves along the grid of a small park, looking around and turning his ears. The sky gradually turned purple and the lamp posts were suddenly lit up, altering the ambient light in dark yellow and strenghtening the shadows. 

The one thing clear to him is that he would help Hans complete the investigation. It was something they were both interested in since the beginning after all, even when they didn't work together. Maybe he could just figure out what to do with the younger tom afterwards. 

The streets grew crowded with humans and he had to watch out for any clumsy kicks or prying hands as he turned around a few more intersections. He hoped he was going the right way. The territories’ layout was regularly discussed at meetings to solve or prevent feuds but this could only give him a vague idea of the direction given he had never been around there. North and East were the least hospitable zones in many cities, mostly because of sparse greenery or denser biped population.

With his resolve came a strange serenity. He was taking a risk and Seamus would be extremely upset with him. But Hans had no one at his side and this made Murphy’s heart swell in unknown sympathy. Maybe the small tom was tired and scared of traveling, of fighting, all on my own.

The fawn cat saw the moon appear, big and bright beyond the tops of the square and bland residential buildings with enlighted windows. Finally, he smelt Pierre’s scent and knew he had arrived on his territory. However he had yet to find where Hans was hidden for the time being. 

Two days ago, at the harbor, he had heard Lisa and the other two unexpectedly agree to consult each other as well as a few other members of the colony on whether they should leave Hans be on neutral grounds. Tonight Hans would hear their answer. 

Still, it was weird that Pierre accepted to accommodate his ex leader, whom he suspected of murder, when he already had Jean to take care of.

Speaking of which, he perceived a strong trail, that both cousins probably used regularly. It twisted and turned through a maze of darker back streets with trash containers and multiple accesses to wall tops and roofs for cats agile enough to climb. He walked some more, avoiding glass debris and stopping from time to time whenever he spotted the movement of rat crawling at the foot of the sidewalks. 

Suddenly, he felt a cold wind tousle his fur and he squinted his eye. He blinked and saw the light had changed a bit, softer, as he stood in a larger but still dimly lit street with a row of trees and bushes. He raised his head and looked at a few pale bright spots in the clear sky. Some cars growled in a nearby avenue but there were no humans around yet.

He crossed from a sidewalk to another, again and again, sniffing around, trying to find indications of cat presence. But then a new smell stroke him as odd. It was pleasant and repulsive at the same time. 

He walked slowly in its direction, crawling from the concealing shadow of a tree to another. It had to be food, he thought after a while, but it felt strangely dense, betraying some sort of abundance of it. 

He almost missed it but at the corner of his vision, on the other side of the street, in the recess of a residential parking area, he spotted a strange shadow. Intrigued, he went to the other side and, from afar, guessed it had to be a human, sitting on a bench, with a few packages set on the floor next to him. Under the bright artificial light of a lamp post, kibbles were scattered around him on the concrete slabs. 

Murphy sighed in disappointment. It had to be one of those distributors ex pets were so enthusiastic about. So that’s why Pierre agreed to shelter Jean here: there was no food issue. Yet none of those cats were there.

He was just thinking that when he heard the faint click of claws on the sidewalk. He briskly turned to the side with alert pupil and whiskers, and saw something walk in his direction in the silvery light. After a while, he noiced the fur as brown-grey, but something was wrong with the face and general posture. The creature, maybe a cat, was limping.

Then he retched when he recognized Jean, with only half a face and angry scars running across his shoulders and legs. He stopped, seemingly surprised to see Murphy and his tail hid between his head legs, betraying his anxiety. Their single eyes looked at each other in silence and apprehensiveness.

“Oi big guy. Jean finally rasped out feebly. You better leave some of those. I’ve looking for the human all day”. Murphy flicked an ear, figuring he was talking about the kibbles. “-You know where Hans is?” he only answered cooly. The smaller cat wavered hesitantly. 

“What you want from him?” –None of your business.” Jean’s expression turned wary then and he tried to lick one his paws before coming around with a wince. 

“-Listen big guy, you gotta ask Pierre about him. –Where can I find him? –I’m on my way to see him but first I gotta eat, ‘kay?" His tone was wavery. The tabby had to be particularly hungry to be making such bold demands in his condition, but Murphy decided to let him have his way despite his own frustration. It was pretty sad to be damaged this way at such a young age, poor guy. Hopefully his legs would heal. The fawn tom snorted and stepped inside the parking area.

He crawled forward, staying close to the cars. He saw the human rising to sit a bit more upright, but otherwise they didn’t seem to have noticed the cat yet. Murphy turned his head and saw Jean hobble with no stealth whatsoever behind him. He got past the older car and moved out of the shadow with visible eagerness towards the pool of kibbles.

After a small moment of hesitation, and seeing the tabby starting to munch with enthusiasm, Murphy finally felt bold enough to crouch by the food too. Soon he felt the first crack of a bland ball of meat under his teeth. 

After a short while, he stopped to lick his lips and reflected on the week’s events, the power struggles in the colony, the dog packs, the strange conversations with Hans... 

He still found this serene resignation in himself. Murphy was forty-eight moons, he could make his own choices and deal with the consequences. Maybe Hans had told him the truth. Murphy had a chance to be happy and he didn’t want to let it go to waste, let one of the few important cats in his life depart so soon. He would wait for something to happen, for good, for bad. He was not scared anymore. He was capable of facing Hans and fate itself. 

His moment of quiet contemplation was cut short as he was violently tugged up by the back of neck. He meowed indignantly and quickly rose his gaze to meet that of a hairless face. 

He didn’t understand much about human body language but he recognized something akin to the cold pupils of a cat who had spotted a butterfly.


	27. Chapter 27

A pregnant silence prevailed on the dark red dunes and stars twinkled indifferently. Hans hesitated, trying to shape some words from the sudden disarray in his mind. Impatiently, the goddess took a step forward, her paws crushing the sand without a sound despite her formidable size. Her human jewelry glittered under the silver light and her shadow stretched, long and dark, among the blocks of stone. 

He quickly backed off, almost falling into the pit behind him and clinging with his claws tightly. Bastet stopped barely ten steps ahead, and he had to lift his chin painfully high to keep looking at her face. Her amber eyes were as indecipherable as ever but she was certainly expecting an answer. So he tried to force down the panic with the breath fluttering in his lungs and managed to send her determined look.

“Every day…those rampant comparisons to my brothers, thinly veiled jokes on my combat skills, gratuitous beatings...” He tried to sound clear, composed but it came out more as a dark and sour murmur. He sighed and continued. 

“Each knocked me down a rung and kept me from my potential. It feels like I were meant to fly, but my own family was making me drown…” The black cat remained silent and unblinking. He gulped and narrowed his gaze challengingly before breathing in deeply to raise his tone.

“But I must be borne in this world for a reason… I will wait for my time to come. I know I will one day accomplish great things. Yes… I will have my own colony. I know I have what it takes to lead it to power and glory, crush its enemies and bring a new age to the land. 

This must be it…my destiny! I won’t let anything or anyone stand in my way! I wish that, for generations to come, everyone will know my name!” He violently wagged his tail as he finished his rant. 

His fur warmed and ruffled in both relief and pride, but a tiny part of his mind had already figured he had gotten too excited. This became a certitude when he realized Bastet’s expression was darkened by sinister fury.

Then it all went alarmingly fast. The sky lit up in red and gold without a single cloud and Hans hissed and screwed his eyes shut as a bright solar disk rose vertically like a gravity defying meteorite. 

When his vision adjusted, his jaws opened in awe, as he discovered that the divinity’s fur strands had metamorphosed from the head down, now coarse and golden like the desert in the middle of the day. Her skull seemed longer, more imposing.

The bright orange sand and white stones shone intensely and, strangely, it seemed like the very air was heating up, unbearably sultry as a thin veil even blurred the line of the horizon. Yet Hans shivered at the horrifying sight of huge and sharp canines in the open maw of the goddess. Those did not belong to a cat for certain.

But he didn’t have the time to ponder more about her new nature when searing pain tore through his pads. The sand grains’ temperature was rising to unbearable levels. Wobbling and crying out, he almost didn’t register Bastet-Sekhmet’s words before she struck him, hurling him far across the ruins.

He almost hit a pillar or two but instead dropped down with a thud and rolled in the sand before his numb body came to a halt. 

His chest heaved helplessly and he blinked rapidly through the daze. The dunes, the sky were spinning and his head pounded excruciatingly. Then he screamed again and tightly squeezed his eyes shut when he felt a weight on his whole flank, encaging him, choking him. 

A deafening snarl thundered in his ear and he felt the very earth shake under his head. He desperately tried to pull himself free but his meager attempt only shook his own frame. With a quick breath he turned his head and noticed a merciless contempt in her golden eyes. 

“What it takes, you say…” She began pensively and narrowed her gaze. “…you do not even have the slightest sense of accountability for what you say or do and you think you can lead a colony?” His gut coiled as he recognized a voice he had heard before sliding out of her lips. 

“You’re just a small, frail, and weak coward, who struggles to get on top so that you don’t have to be scared anymore, she continued. And all you know is to knock others down to satisfy your fragile ego”. He swallowed dryly, heart racing in fiery outrage. 

“-I am not weak…”, he rasped angrily and tensed when he felt her huge and sharp claws tighten painfully inside his flesh. He heard himself slowly starting to wheeze and struggled to keep his dry eyes open. Each of Bastet’s breaths felt and smelt like a heavy could of wildfire smoke. 

“-You assumed that because your siblings talked to you harshly and treated you badly, you had the license to sabotage others, she growled. Yet Queen Elsa grew up imprisoned and was cast aside by her own fellowcats because she was different. She didn’t stoop as low as you did when you decided to kill her to appropriate her colony ! You’re not the first cat who was abused under this sun ! If you feel entitled to hurt someone because you’re afraid, upset or insecure, then you deserved every blow that your brothers gave you !”

Hans began sharply, shocked by what Bastet was bringing up, and then he suddenly figured whom this voice belonged to and a pang of humiliation squeezed his chest...Anna…

He coughed weakly and clenched his teeth. He felt crippled, nauseous, with waves of memories of Oskar and Emil dropping him off a small cliff to see if he would land on his feet. He was helpless, a feeling that he despised more than anything he had ever known. He flinched when he saw Bastet's face come dangerously close to his.

“This is your only warning. If you ever hurt anyone again, I will scorch you slowly until your skin is consumed like wood fuel, and then, I will devour your heart whole before Ammit even gets a chance to”. 

Despite the immense strain both his body and mind were currently under, Hans finally felt his ideas clear and he forced himself to gather the remnants of his combativeness.

“-You can’t…Hnnn…You can’t threaten me…” She blinked at that but then opened her mouth around the chilling parody of a smile. 

“-Of course I can. You’re not special. You’re not exceptional. You’re like every other pathetic abuser, lashing out, hoping someone who’s actually worth a damn will pay attention”. 

Rage still seethed inside the red tom, made his body tense in defiance. But another, heavy feeling had started to creep up on him, spreading from his stomach to his throat. With the heavy feeling came an exhaustion. As if it had been there all along, had simply been repressed, hidden underneath his ubris. A nagging feeling rose from the soles of his feet, further and further upward until he could no longer ignore it. A feeling that had been with him for the majority of his life. 

“You said you love Murphy… but have you ever truly done anything for him… put his wishes and needs before yours?” 

Despite the desert’s winds, the small cat’s felt himself grow cold in unparalleled uncertainty. A wraith of Murphy’s touch tormented him with its absence. He felt tugged at, shadow teeth brushing the base of his neck, excitement and dread in his gut and shallow breath in his lungs.

“You want Murphy to notice you. And he does, but not because you’re worthy. Not because he needs you. It’s because he feels sorry for you. He said it himself, you’re an object of pity for him”. 

Hans' despair deepened upon hearing her words. His anxieties were swirling around horribly inside of him again, making him feel like he was losing his mind. A sob was wedged in his throat and he had to force it back down again and again. 

“-You bitch!” He screeched and started wriggling again, his claws clenching and opening back up helplessly, trying to twist his head enough to bite her paw off. She didn’t even flinch.

“-And Lisa felt the same, she said calmly. She looked at you and saw a sad, broken cat who needs fixing. 

-Doesn’t matter, she’ll…hnng…she’ll help me. 

-She might let you live…just like Anna did…-Wha… -They’re both special. Lisa has a great destiny before her. And Anna managed to grow despite your rot. 

But speaking of rot…You should hustle before you lose the only cat who would ever cry for you”. 

For a while, Hans’ thoughts stilled, then ran around in his head as he tried to figure out what she could possibly mean.

Suddenly, his nose started to itch, smelling the putrid, ripe fragrance of death. At the same time, Bastet let him free. 

The red cat scrambled to his paws on the slippery sand and winced in pain, fighting the protest of his injured muscles and the reeling sensation in his head. Instinctively, he looked on his left and felt his heart stop. 

At the edge of the ruins, there was a wide, rectangular structure with finely carved bas-reliefs. It represented the sacrificial rites in which humans of the old times engaged. Especially striking was an ox whose throat was sliced wide open with a knife. Underneath, a decaying corpse laid, immobile, under the blazing sun. 

Hans’ chest heaved with a shuddering gasp and he scurried as quickly as he could towards it, bumping against the corners of a few blocks. The sun was starting to descend just as rapidly as it ascended, and a cold breeze blew across the darker and darker ruins. Those empty desert lands laughed at him, mocked him. Sand pressed against his paws, creaking like old stone. He hoped that the heat had just made him delirious.

But when he arrived there, with the long, shaggy coat of orange fur by his feet, he knew it was not an illusion. 

All strength left him and he collapsed on the ground with a broken sob. 

The light disappeared and he was trapped in the dark night. He blinked desperately to see the face and shivered from the cold that was sinking its teeth into his marrow. 

He sniffled, blindly trying to press himself against the body. He sought that warmth he’d felt before, all but gone now as Murphy lay bleeding and motionless. He searched for it, yearned for it, wanting it now that there was nothing left to do. If he died, he wanted to feel it burn him one last time, admire the strength that swelled in his powerful muscles when he jumped above a fence and see the piercing incision of his eye soften with amusement.

At the back of his mind, he heard Bastet’s thousand voices ring one last time and reverberate against the pyramids. He felt a fresh tear roll down his cheek. 

“You will wake up because I allowed it. And because Murphy would never forgive me if you didn’t. A chosen one? You’re not powerful. You don’t have any “great purpose” in life. You’re worthless”.

“-Sir…Err…Sir!”

He felt the inside of the cardboard box press against his back as he started. He looked around drowsily, his vision a blur of city neon lights. He breathed heavily for his heart was heavy with a strange sadness. It must have been a very bad dream. 

He calmly contemplated the mattresses, saggy sofas, the motley set of plastic bags around him, dimly lit by the moon. The bright eyes of Lisa and Gabriele shone and looked at him grimly from the shadow of the bridge. He stood up and quickly jumped out of the box. 

“Oh…Good evening, sorry about that…”, he smiled apologetically, feeling rested and lucid again. Yet, he felt gnawed at by a dull, lingering intuition that something terrible was going to happen…

Lisa and Gabriele looked at each other awkwardly before feeling bold enough to step closer. He spotted Pierre and another cat –Brownie?- standing on the sidewalk of the boulevard. Gabriele chirped to clear her throat. 

“-Yeah…Umm…So yeah…We want to tell you that we have talked with the other colony folks. And sorry…it’s a majority against. Turns out you can’t stay here…” 

Hans sat down, letting it sink in and breathed in and out slowly. 

“-How much time do I have?”, he murmured. Oh, why did he felt like he wasn’t asking the right question?

“-Until dawn. Afterwards, Josef and Anton said you had to be…Uhm...gotten rid of…” 

Gabriele’s meow didn’t sound very threatening, but not really sad either. Just embarrassed. Lisa’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. Strange. Did she feel pity for him? She didn’t say a word. 

Despairing of his cause, he looked at the silhouettes of the two other toms in the distance. Pierre looked at him with reproach but Brownie trampled the ground with visible restlessness. He tensed when he felt Hans gaze on him. 

“I’m sorry Brownie. I’m happy I could count on a fellow ex pet. Thank you for helping me out all this time”. Brownie’s whiskers twitched and he looked around with embarrassment. 

“-Yeah, no problem”, he slurred. He seemed to feel sympathy, but there was also something weird about him. 

“Uhm…there’s something I wanted to tell you…but that’s not very important…probably too late now anyway…” The uncomfortable feeling deepened in Hans' gut and he tried to nod encouragingly at the tuxedo tom. 

“So yeah, I went to see Darya as you told me. She said there isn’t any distributor on her turf anymore”. 

Hans blinked. Disappointed.

–Is that…is that all? –Uhm…yeah…” Gabrielle and Pierre looked at each other. Great, now Hans felt awkward too. But he still felt something was off, something important.

“-Anyway… Gabrielle interrupted, standing up, some plastic creased noisily under her claws. You should probably leave now, when there’s still time you know…” 

But Hans was barely listening to her, he was trying too hard to focus, to think about what he was missing in the series of events that took place last moon phase, to put his thoughts in order. However, it was his brother Otto’s familiar face that first surfaced in his mind. 

In this untimely and distant memory, he showed him around his new territory for the first time. The biggest village there was special. There wasn’t anything to hunt.

_“Humans have captured a geographic area far beyond the realm of our respective experiences, Otto said, walking leisurely on a gutter ahead of him. They have developed ingenious ways to collaborate together to fashion their environment as they see fit. And, as you have probably noticed, they more often than not grow…hostile to our presence. You may not believe it at first, but in the city I come from, some districts have been completely cleared of strays. Not because humans succeeded in capturing or killing off all cats, but because they deliberately prevented their most generous members from feeding us. That, or they eliminated all prey before we could catch it”._

Hans knew he had repeated those same words not so long ago…to sound smart and gain popularity at Green Hill.

“Uhm…Sir?”, he heard Gabriele call. Hans' tail wagged, his fur bristled in frustration. 

_“About that! The old man who shows up at the white fountain, you know, on Elke’s territory, he stopped coming. I came back several days in a row and nothing. I’ve also heard the lady living next to the big vegetables shop on Flora’s doesn’t open her door anymore… -But that’s only three distributors left ! All those on my territory closed too!”_

Now he was hearing Gabriele and Brownie’s voices, from two weeks ago, at the first meeting he attended here. With the three large dump bins, and when Alois was still alive with his old colourpoint fur.

The next day, Georg was found. The red tom shuddered in disgust at the horrifying image of tweaked legs, cut tail and empty eye sockets. He heard Marie's unpleasant croak in his ears.

_“Two phases ago, he told me he needed to see a food distributor in my district, because apparently the ones on his territory closed or whatnot bullshit excuse.”_

_“I assume you are the last one to have seen Anastasiya, he later asked Brownie. Could you tell me what you where and what you were doing?” -Yeah, I decided to have lunch but I wasn’t very hungry so I finished before her and I decided to go home…”_

_“Please don’t tell anyone… Jonas and I…we were having an affair and I decided to invite him over at Lukas. There is a distribution center there and I thought...”, had implored Lisa._

_“Sir, I talked to Marie as you asked. There isn’t any distributor on her turf anymore.”_

And suddenly things clicked together. 

Everyone was standing up now, suspicious and curious to know why Hans was zoning out for no reason when he should be on his way to save his own life. 

“Please, Pierre...” And before the tabby was able to object he pressed on with urgency. 

“Please listen to me. It is very important. Is there still a distribution center on your territory? Your cousin might be in grave danger.”


	28. Chapter 28

The Snuggly Duckling camp had been the venue of his most grueling scuffles. The bandits often brought food among their spoils and this attracted many bold and swift strays around. You just had to be careful not to get caught and roasted alongside the chickens and pigs but you could still live pretty comfortably for a wild cat. 

Of course, this had not always been easy when Seamus and Murphy were still barely able to catch their own prey. Competition was fierce and big toms wanted to make sure others remained at their place. To this day, his worst nightmares were still haunted by a specific cat. 

Little Seamus was trying to get inside one of the makeshift barracks where meat was stored to dry, his brother close behind. The largest tom of the colony was there, ginger, striped, imposing, ominous. The twins were tall for their age, they were two, they thought they could handle it. But they had forgotten to secure an escape route in case they couldn’t. Which happened. 

Fast like wind, the adult cat had Seamus tumble out of the room by a series of punches on the head and stunned still in the dirt. Murphy tried to make it to the exit too, but alas had been frozen in shock for too long. He was cornered against one of the walls and crushed on the ground before he could even say a word. 

Unable to defend himself, he emitted an escalating howl of agony when the left part of his face was filled with searing pain. 

After what felt like an eternity of helplessness, he was let go, and it was only the adrenaline that fueled his legs and carried him to the safety of the woods. Sticky blood seeped from his head, obscurity veiled his sight and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. 

The next day, when he awoke damp and cold from his blackout, he could only see from one eye. This impairment had made everything even more complicated than they already were and he was lucky to have his brother having his back at the beginning. 

But in the end, despite the injury, he lived many more months, he grew strong and independent. But today he felt deep in his instinctual core that he might soon not even make it through another day. 

Fierce fear seized him and he snarled, twisting around and trying to wrestle out of the grip at the back of his neck. Despite the numbness in his paws caused by the latter, he was bigger, heavier than most cats, he almost made it. Unfortunately, the human had experience with handling cats like him.

A first blow bounced off the the tom's skull and sent stars exploding in his eyelid. He fell limply, awkwardly with a late groan, blinking lethargically and trying to figure out that it was the wet concrete floor he was staring at.

“Mr Murphy!”, he heard Jean scream. 

He shook his head and sped up his blinking to force clarity into his head. The monster had wedged him between his knees and was now rummaging in a bag. He smelt like acrid chemicals and sweat. 

Murphy's face was stinging from the blow given to him. But even trapped and in unconditional inferiority, the fawn cat wasn't going to allow the abuse without a degree of fight. With furious growls, he violently struggled beneath him, twisting his body around with fits and starts. His claws scraped viciously against the man’s hands and legs.

To his horror, the hairless animal barely flinched, protected as he was by his odd fabric. He heard Jean scream again and he saw something glow in the dim lamp post at the corner of his vision. He forced his head a little sideways and felt all his hairs stand on end when he figured the human was holding something. 

Something sharp. A double blade. 

"Get off of me!" He threw all his strength into shoving the body trapping him when he felt fingers strongly grip his tail. Then his body jerked helplessly as the pain skewered through it. 

He yelped and spat and then the coldness of the metal was gone, leaving Murphy to swallow desperate gulps of air to soothe the white pain that spread from his fractured outrigger to his whole nervous system, hoping for a moment of respite. 

Before the vicious pressure arose again. The knife pushed in deeper, seeking paths of least resistance. 

His teeth grit madly together as he gathered his might for another wrestling match despite his own blood trickling abundantly to the floor. 

Suddenly he heard two sounds, a cat scream and a weird sound from the human. He smelt Jean’s fear and heard him bite the aggressor. The weapon fell to the ground, an awful sound of metal jarring violently off concrete inches away. 

However, with a violent jerk, the human tore his hand free and a backhanded strike across the face forced the already crippled tabby onto the ground with a painful thump that shoved his shoulder up against his jaw.

Murphy groaned, feeling sick himself and disorientated, blinking at his sideways-view of the dirty floor. He quickly sank his claws for support. His muscles protested but rage and survival instinct were powering his body. He dragged himself across the dusty concrete weakly about three steps in a loosened hand before it almost crushed his head again.

The human held him huddled uncomfortably to the ground for a while again. Blood rushed in the cat’s ears and out the fresh cut in his tail as he spat, senses ringing. Jean was still moving, weakly but Murphy’s attention was quickly caught by something thin moving downward before his eye, lightly brushing his whiskers. 

Then the damn thing was pressed against him, lassoed around his throat, and the breath was squeezed out of him. 

He leaped forward but only hurt himself more. It would not break despite how much he tugged at it. Hissing, he reared up on his hind legs and stretched as high as he could, trying not to lose footing, hoping it would mitigate the pain.

But the human would not let it happen as he stood up on his own legs and shortened the rope. Murphy tried to scream but all that came out was a choked shriek.

Then his teeth rattled when he was hoisted off his feet and suspended in the air. His struggles immediately started again with renewed energy, writhing and wrenching in violent motions to force the human to make it stop.

The pressure suddenly diminished as he was brought back to the floor and Murphy was allowed to wheeze and quietly groan in pain. Blood seeped into his mouth, intense pain bloomed from where the rope was shearing his flesh. 

But the human eventually recovered his energy and he was once more throttling the feline.

Murphy’s paws stretched out desperately as he tried to claw at the man again, but the cat was helpless. 

He was brought down and then up again. 

And again. 

I’m heavy, he told himself as he desperately tried to breathe. Surely I can still go through a few cycles. Surely the human will get bored of my resilience after a while. He will be satisfied with a severed tail.

He still twitched to break free but he knew his movements were growing weaker. His legs shook with effort each time he could reach the floor. He was beginning to see a mix of tiny sparks and large black spots. 

This wasn't how he'd thought he'd be spending his night. He'd thought he'd be telling Hans —

Oh Bastet, Hans. He was going to die without ever telling Hans that he loved him. With their last interaction being them hissing at each other.

Sentient thought was fleeing his brain, replaced by a prolonged, silent scream. He felt his mind dissociating. In his rare moments of respite he drifted, imagining himself floating several feet above his abused body. He watched the moon dance with the motes of dust in the air, watched neon light glance off the water puddles and twinkle against the ceiling of grey clouds. He watched the shadows creep along the building walls until they eventually merged with darkness.

The pain enveloped him, took hold, swept like bloody fog to obscure the entirety of his vision. Adrenaline faded, his knees gave out.

Unexpectedly, he was left to collapse limply on the concrete. 

He wheezed, and gasped for air, and rolled onto his side to cough hoarsely, unable to bring movement in his legs. Wha…Why?

But a scream, or rather a monstrous bellow was rudely blaring over the sentences slowly forming in his head. It was like the harrowing sound was blowing thoughts away, scattering them like tree leaves. 

Bemused, he tried to turn his head to see what was going on and groaned as it intensified the acute pain in his throat again. However, the rope though still around him laid limply on the ground next to him.

Through his swimming vision and the semi-darness, he noticed the human reeling around erratically a few steps away from him. The monster was still screaming very loudly. He was holding his hands up and something was concealing his face. 

No. Murphy’s heart twitched in fright when he noticed the colour. 

Hans had jumped from Bastet knows where directly onto the predator’s face. Murphy tried to speak up, beg him to give up and run away quick before he got hurt too, but nothing but pathetic rasping came out. 

The monster’s hands were now harshly grabbing the little body, were trying to pull him off yet for some reason Hans was determined to just cling to him for as long as he could. 

The human almost fell down when a second cat appeared at full speed from behind a car and charged into his legs, barely missing strength and aim. It fell, rolled forward onto its back and immediately bounced back up. Then it stopped in its tracks, turned its head around and locked eyes with Murphy. 

It was Lisa. 

The calico shecat hurried to his side with a wary expression. Not far away behind, Pierre’s smell manifested. Hopefully for him Jean was okay.

Lisa tried to draw near, to inspect his neck but Murphy startled away when he heard a cat screech join the demonic cries of the human. The fawn cat tried to push himself on his forelegs and almost choked again because of pain and stress. 

He only exhaled and relaxed somewhat when he noticed Hans had let go or that the man had thrown him down to the floor. But Murphy hoped the younger tom was not letting his guard down for he feared that the monster could still try and grab him properly this time. However, there was still something odd about the monster... 

Suddenly, Lisa gasped as the felines realized with stupor that, where the ugly oval eyes with too much sclera once were, dark blood gushed from fresh bite injuries.

With recoiled leaps, Hans avoided a few enraged kicks, but it was unlikely the human could catch him now. The red cat looked exhausted, but he still turned a few times around the human, as if trying to find an angle from which to attack again. Murphy noticed a ghastly fierceness in the dark pupils. A perverse joy.

Fortunately, he finally gave up and abruptly ran towards the two other cats, towards Murphy. His lean, muscled body was vibrating with energy. And his cute little face was suddenly there, up close. 

The fawn tom shivered. Pain still held sway and damp cold was leaching into his fur. But he was so relieved.

Hans was saying something, his voice low and rough with barely contained emotion. But Murphy couldn’t understand. His mind was going blissfully blank.

Hans’ auburn fur was as gorgeous as when the older cat had first seen him on Alois’ turf. His large, intelligent irises were light, even in the pale moonlight. 

There was such an outspoken distress in them.

No, don’t…don’t cry, Murphy thought but couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even kiss the little flower button looking nose before he passed out.


End file.
